The Voice of Truth
by ilikecrystals
Summary: A serial killer forces Sam to reveal his true feelings for Dean.  Wincest/Slash/Frottage/Lots of kissing.  Please point out any errors or crap writing so I can fix. I love constructive criticism and reviews so bring 'em! :D
1. Chapter 1

Title: The Voice of Truth  
Rating: Mature  
Author: ilikecrystals  
Pairing: Sam/Dean  
Summary: A serial killer forces Sam to reveal his true feelings for Dean. Wincest/Slash/Frottage/Lots of kissing

A/N: I found this on my flash drive, it was originally written for Live Journal's Big Bang but I didn't get it finished in time. Hope you enjoy and second chapter coming soon.

#

#

Sweet singing in his ears.

Pulling him from darkness, a familiar tune but he can't place it and he surfaces slow, the melody surrounding him, should be soothing but it's not, it's-

_Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord._

Filling him with dread, his balls tightening with fear, drawing up and the blood shoots to his limbs because he needs to get the fuck out of here-

_Not safe, not safe-_

Heart thumping against his ribs, he comes awake with a jolt, fighting the weight holding him down, can't see-

_He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored,_

He's blinking furiously, trying to catch a glimpse of light, holy shit, is he fucking blind? And something rustles and he squints his eyes, the shift of cloth over his lashes has him gasping with relief.

Just blindfolded, thank Christ-

_He has loosed the fateful lightening of His terrible swift sword_

He tastes the bitter fabric in his mouth, shoved deep between his teeth, cutting into his cheeks, it's tied on so tight and he growls around it, his voice a rusty scratch on leather, "Who-who are you?" and his words are garbled, mumbled around the gag.

But he knows. It's the one they've been hunting.

The memory is foggy, distant. He'd been asking questions, doing research and then, on the ground, he'd seen-

He hears the metal clanking against metal, smells the copper scent of blood heavy in the air and he thrashes against his binds.

"Who the fuck are you?" he screams and the melody never falters, never ends-

_His __truth__ is __marching__ on._

#

Sam's the one who found the case.

Murders in a small town, sudden and vicious, and the police have no leads, no suspects and now the taxpayers are getting anxious, talking to the media about clueless cops and inept mayors, needing resolution, salvation-

All the while waiting in grisly anticipation for the next body to show up, the next confession, the next prey-

The victims are snatched in the night, no witnesses, no clues, and then, a few hours later, a small package, string-tied in brown paper, delivered to the one person who will be most hurt by it-

It holds a confession…of a secret so terrible, so deep and dark, the victim needs to be drugged with truth serum before they will give it a voice, reveal it-

Once the secret is public, the victim turns up dead twenty-four hours later, a cross slashed into their chests, hearts gouged through, bleeding them out-

But that's not the worst. Nope, the worst comes after their hearts are pumping out their life's blood, after they're watching themselves die-

The sick fuck cuts out their tongues, slices through them nice and neat and _places_ them in a chosen spot, a meaningful spot-

Sending a message.

It's the tongue mutilation that catches Sam's attention, pointing towards some sort of supernatural ritual, a demon summoning or a sacrificial offering to some dark god…and he'd talked Dean into the five hour drive to check it out.

"But Sam, they're having that Elvis Festival in Lake George. _Elvis._ Dude, we totally have to check that out."

"Dean, the festival isn't going on for another week. We can totally swing by this place, solve the case, kill the big bad and be back up there in plenty of time to see the stupid Elvis impersonators."

Dean considers, hemming and hawing before he makes a deal, "Man, if I do this, then you have to dress up like Elvis with me…I'm talking slicked back hair and black leather pants…you've already got the sideburns for it-"

"Dean, come _on_-"

"Them's the terms. Take it or leave it."

Sam pulls in a suffering breath, "Ok. _Okay._ I'll do it. But I get to wear Dad's jacket."

"Deal breaker, Sam."

"The jacket or it's no deal."

"Blue suede shoes and you get the jacket."

"Done." And Sam reaches out to pump Dean's hand, Dean chortling like an idiot and rubbing his hands together in anticipation.

"I am so gonna take pictures, Sammy."

"Fuck you, Dean. Let's go."

#

FBI Agents Sam Hagar and Dean Anthony introduce themselves to the local sheriff who barely glances at the ID badges flashed, so eager for help he stutters and stumbles in his haste to tell them all-

Each tape starts the same, he tells them, the darkened room, the high-pitched voice laughing and singing, the camera hitching and jerking around the room until it lands on something solid, the click of bright light and the poor victim, blinking and squinting, gagged and tied to a chair, fear pulsing out of their eyes as they stare at their killer-

The IV line is already in place.

The gag is removed and the request comes, "Tell me the truth."

If they refuse, a clear fluid is injected into their IV line by a gloved hand and gradually their words slur and stumble, hysterically giggling one second and crying the next, emotions on overload, their eyes wander and roll, glassing over, head lolling back like their necks don't work anymore-

And all the while, that voice, calmly patient works at them, at their minds, asking for the truth, quoting bible versus, telling them they'll be free if they just tell the truth-

Eventually, they break, screaming out their secrets with shining eyes and drooling mouths, unable to resist that insidious voice or the drugs pumping through their blood.

The killer's voice, sing-song and whispery, tells them how well they did, how they're whole and complete now, clean and ready for heaven-

Fucking Jesus freak.

Dean shoots a disgusted look at Sam who just shrugs and shakes his head. They're both thinking the same thing, that Sam is wrong about the supernatural slant and that it's just a crazy-ass human doing this shit because demons don't give a crap about anyone's soul being cleansed.

Well, they're here now so they might as well see this through.

And, Dean smiles inwardly, this is gonna make seeing Sam in blue suede shoes and black leather even sweeter because now he owes Dean big time and big brother's gonna rub this in for months.

#

He feels the swab of cold, smells the alcohol and then the sting of a needle jabbing into his vein-

"Ahhh, fuck!" It hurts like a bitch and there's fumbling, the rip of tape and then a warm burning up his arm-

The swoon in his head is instant, his voice far away and fuck, sounds funny and he's giggling, not so scary now, it's just relaxed and kinda nice, his muscles are loose and pliant and he doesn't have to fight anymore, just can relax and rest-

Hands tug at the blindfold and bright light sears into his brain, stabs his eyes and he's squinting, scowling against it because fucking hurts, it's blinding-

"Tell me the truth."

The voice floats through the air towards him and he tries to see, tries to focus past the white but can't see a fucking thing-

"What're you-"

"Tell me the truth!"

"What truth? I don't know any truth!" Sam shouts back and shakes his head, confused and freaking loopy as all hell, his brain sloshing and whirling around in his skull and shit, he can't get his balance-

"Tell me the truth about your brother-"

"Dean? What do you want with Dean?"

"I don't want anything but the truth. You want him."

"What? What the fuck are you-"

"I _know_. I've seen the way you look at him. You _want_ him, like a brother shouldn't want a brother."

_Oh, shit._

"No, I. Listen, y-you got it all _wrong_, all wrong, he's my brother-" Sam is protesting, fighting against the dizziness that's sliding through his head, trying to focus on what's happening here and now and there's no way this asshole knows what's in his heart, no fucking way-

"Doesn't matter what he is. You want him anyway. You want to lay with him, like a woman lays with a man, you want to _fuck_ him."

"No. NO!" Absolutely not, he won't admit, can't tell, can't ever fucking tell-

That he loves Dean more than life and laying with him, _being_ with him, is all he wants in the whole fucking world-

#

It was the summer Sam turned fifteen that he fell in love with his brother.

He remembers it had been so hot, he could barely breathe with it and so fucking dry the ground cracked and ached for rain, dust kicking up just by looking at it and there'd been warnings in the news about matches and campfires, brushfires everyone's greatest fear. Hell, if a fire ever did start, it'd go up like kindling and most of the town would just have to bend over and kiss their asses goodbye 'cause there'd be nothing left, no way to stop it.

They'd been in Arizona, in a motel that had a cabins instead of rooms, a pool (thank Christ) and a temperamental air conditioner that worked when it wanted to but usually didn't.

He and Dean had taken to wearing next to nothing in the heat, just staying in their swim shorts all day and hanging at the pool while they waited for Dad to come get them.

They were always waiting for Dad.

It had been one of the best times of his life, just him and Dean, having fun, splashing in the pool, lounging in front of the TV as long as they wanted, and glutting themselves on junk food, soda pop and beer.

The cement around the pool was so hot it scorched the feet, and the asphalt driveway you had to cross to get to it sizzled in the blinding heat of day, so hot your vision wavered and blurred just above it and you could pop the tar bubbles with a poking toe for fun.

The air smelled like sulfur and exhaust, downwind of the business district but every once in a while, a sweet breeze would cut through, someone's flowers or laundry hanging out to dry and it'd catch the nose by surprise, make you inhale deep with the sudden fresh.

At night, it was quiet peace, the crickets and cicadas buzzing pleasant, replacing the sound of horns blaring and motors gunning, and the stench of the day would be blown away by the cool night wind, a delicious blessing after the melting scorch of sun.

He and Dean would sit on the front steps of their cabin, shivering in the sharp breeze, drinking and dreaming, making plans of how their lives were gonna be when they stopped hunting.

It was then, in the quiet breeze of summer, head filled with the sounds of night, that he'd fallen in love with his brother.

It was soft at first, sliding in under his radar and catching him unawares, off guard and wide opened, and left him fucking gasping with the knowledge of it.

He'd watch Dean in the moonlight, staring out at the future, a relaxed smile on his mouth as he told Sam his dreams, how he wanted to start his own garage, how he wanted to design and create the fastest, most fuel efficient engine ever and how he'd have to go to school for it but that was just to get the credentials. He already had most of the blueprint for it mapped out in his head, he just had to get it down on paper.

Then he'd look at Sam and say, "I'll make enough money with that so that you and me can find a house, settle in finally and not have to move around ever again. I could send you through college and you could be whatever you wanted. Would you like that, Sammy?"

And Sam would nod, eyes wide, yes, because right at that moment, he'd wanted nothing more than to stay with his brother forever and the flood of emotions that hurtled through his chest choked his breath and stole his voice, making speaking impossible but Dean would understand, reaching up to ruffle his hair softly and then hugging him close.

Except one night, the hug had felt…_different_.

Warmer than usual and Dean's grip was so tight, he'd felt the tingle immediately, snaking through his belly like a rattler, the heat flicking down his back and legs as soon as Dean touched him, a thrill of something sharp and raw and what the hell?

He was seized by the sudden urge to reach up, wrap his arms around Dean and kiss him, take those deliciously soft lips into his own and slide his tongue in there, into the hot wet heat of Dean's mouth and taste his essence, his soul-

#

He hadn't ever kissed anyone before.

Dean had shown him how, a week or so earlier, they'd gone into town for supplies and Sam had gone all stupid when the check out girl had flirted with him, all blushing ears and stammering words and Dean had, thank God, hauled his ass out of there before he could make a bigger fool of himself.

When he'd ask Sam about it later, Sam had gotten pissed, yelled at Dean that it wasn't like he knew what the fuck to do anyway with a chick, cause he never even had a chance to go on a date. And when he'd mumbled, red-faced and humiliated, that he didn't even know how to kiss, Dean had decided then and there to up Sammy's education.

They'd practiced on Sam's arm, Dean first pressing his lips in dry and then showing Sam how to deepen the kiss, licking his tongue around on Sam's skin, French-kissing his wrist and Sam had laughed and pulled away because it tickled-

And when Dean had held out his own arm towards Sam's mouth, wanting Sam to try, Sam had looked at Dean's arm, his breath froze in his chest, his skin felt stretched too tight over his bones, and he knew his face was flushed and raw-

He'd shaken his head, backtracked fast and skittered out of the room, high tailing it for the bathroom at mock ten and slamming the door shut behind him, heart pounding like a freaking freight train in his ribs-

He'd stared at his arm where Dean's tongue had been and licked his lips before bending to taste, sliding over his brother's spit and pulling the flavor back into his mouth and it was good, just like he knew Dean would taste.

The quick tingle had flared then, through his belly and balls and he'd pushed it away, heart knocking and rattling, scrubbing soap over his arm, rubbing chafe, huge frightened eyes looking back at him from the mirror and he'd shoved the feeling down deep, shaking it off fast because it made him feel-

God, so fucking dirty.

#

He'd felt gangly and awkward since that night, like he didn't belong in his own skin and scared to get too close to Dean, to touch Dean-

And then Dean had hugged him, pulling him in, cupping his hand around Sam's head until Sam's face was buried in his neck, breathing in Dean's scent-

And fuck, it flared up in him so fast, so freaking hard that he clung to Dean, panting into him and he felt his hand slide up, slipping over the firm chest to lay on Dean's beating heart before moving higher, going for Dean's face and he'd jerked back fast, stopping himself because Dean would hate him, would push him away and he can't have that, can't let that happen ever, ever because his whole life is Dean-

Can't live without him and he's gonna make damn sure that he doesn't screw anything up-

He twists away fast, body suddenly covered with a layer of cold sweat that trickles down his back, sticking his shirt to him-

And meets Dean's eyes-

And there's something there, dark and flaring in the depths of those green eyes, hungry and wanting-

"Dean." His voice is a whisper, a frantic plea for guidance because why is Dean looking at him like that?

And Dean reaches out, slides a thumb down his face, over his cheek bone and ghosts across his bottom lip-

And Sam's mouth trembles under Dean's touch because God, he _wants_-

And fuck-

His dick is rock hard, shoving up through the slit of his trunks and shit, he's got to get out of here, right the fuck now, before Dean sees-

He jumps to his feet, Dean jerking back in surprise and turns quick, thumping up the steps and into the cabin without a backward glance, hoping to hell Dean hadn't seen the tenting of his crotch-

He'd made it to the bathroom, locking himself inside, staring at his own shell-shocked expression in the mirror, scared shitless at the feelings roaring through him. He'd splashed cold water on his face, breathing rough and held on to the sink with both hands, dizzy and near swooning because holy shit, he wanted to kiss Dean, touch Dean's cock, God, drop to his knees and take it in his mouth and drink him down-

Come on-

This was _Dean_, his stupid, asshole of a brother, that would fuck anything that moved as long as it had tits and a hole to push into-

And Sam wasn't gay, didn't like guys, for Christ's sake. He liked girls, was sure he did because he was a Winchester and Winchesters didn't do gay-

His brain tries for logic because reason has just flown out the fucking window.

Ok, he hasn't had a chance to jerk off in a couple of weeks, a guy his age must get stunted growth or something if he doesn't do it a couple times a day…that must be it, he's just goddamn horny and Dean is too, hell, they're in each other's pockets, not like they get much chance to choke the chicken-

Ok, then.

He pushes down his shorts, grabbing his dick and stroking hard, groaning at the rush of pleasure that sweeps through, hanging onto the sink with the other hand, staring at himself in the mirror, biting on his lower lip with a vengeance, making it all red and swollen-

He pulls the skin and jerks his wrist, thumbing over the sensitive head and rocking his hips in. Mmmm, that's nice, yeah-

He drags faster, gripping tight and jerking up rough, his breath speeding up in time and he thinks of the clerk in the store, tawny haired and long legs, smelling good and sweet and yeah, he'd like to get into her pants for sure, kiss her like Dean showed him how, get her naked and gasping underneath him, run his mouth over those sweet breasts and suck each nipple in turn, and he'd kiss her all over, using his fingers inside her to bring her to ecstasy, to make her scream in pleasure-

He's climbing higher now, almost there, hand moving faster on his shaft, straining towards the crest of the wave and suddenly, the girl's image is gone and Dean is there, in his mind's eye, green eyes smiling, lips curved up deliciously, leaning towards him to touch, saying his name in a low, sensuous whisper, "Sammy-"

And Dean's running his hand up his face, over his lips, touching softly and leaning in to kiss, mouth almost there-

With a cry of release, Sam's orgasm hits hard and he's pumping into the sink, long streams of it splattering the porcelain, the faucet, the mirror and he bucks into his fist, aftershocks racking through-

Until he's shot his load, nothing more to give and he's spent, empty gaze staring back at him and now he's shaking all over, eyes stinging with tears-

Holy shit, he's screwed.

Suddenly, Dean's there, banging on the bathroom door, yelling his name and Sam is scrambling, lunging for the sponge, scrubbing away his jizz with a trembling hand, taking a deep breath before pulling back the knob, meeting Dean's worried eyes quick before he jerks his gaze away-

"You ok, Sammy? You ok?"

And he nods, pushing past Dean, can't look at him, not at all, going into the kitchen and pouring himself a huge glass of ice tea before back tracking, into the living room and turning on the tube.

"Sam?" Dean's followed him, staring at him with dark eyes, eyes he can't read anymore.

"I'm fine, Dean. Just…too freaking hot tonight, you know?"

And Sam settles on the couch, stretching out his legs in front of him, sucking on ice cubes and staring at the television, desperately looking everywhere but at his gorgeous brother.

#

So hot, so fucking hot the past few days and it's all he can do to breathe, the air wet and heavy in his lungs-

And his freaking brother, sitting on the couch in nothing but his underwear, skin glistening in the television light, sweat gleaming as it trickles down-

Sam's filling out so nice, all the training turning his long body lean, hard and his muscles were getting sculpted, cut into his skin, not an ounce of fat on him-

Fucking air conditioner still isn't working and the skin clings to any surface, thighs sticking hard to the plastic kitchen chair as Dean stands up, goes to the refrigerator for another beer-

Watches Sam watching TV, eyes tracing the firm body, the long legs stretched out in front of him, and his face-

Drops of sweat collect on the sweet curve of his nose, bead on the delicious upper lip and cling to the curls around his neck-

Sam sucks down a glass of ice tea, holding the tumbler to his face to try to cool, panting slightly in the heat of the night-

Dean chugs the beer he just got, downing it in three huge gulps and pulls himself out another one, yanking his gaze off Sam only to have it pulled back like a magnet, glued to that body, that face…that sweat-

Sam looks so goddamn good when he sweats-

Just looks good no matter what he's doing-

Dean's felt the pull of it for a couple of months now, managed to shove it down and keep it there when Sam's around, only letting himself think about it when Sam's sleeping in the next bed, making soft delicious wuffles as he rolls and tosses in slumber, or when Sam's in the shower and Dean can let his mind wander, thinking about his brother, naked and dripping, in the steam of the bath.

He knows it's wrong, knows it's perverted and sick and twisted and evil and all other kinds of filthy things and he's tried to get rid of it for months but it keeps coming back, rearing up its ugly head, taking over his mind and his goddamn cock until it's all he thinks about, all he can focus on.

It's his baby brother, his responsibility, his job-

It's soft skin and sweet smells, curling up on his chest whenever he's afraid, making Dean feel big and strong and those adoring eyes staring up into his own, worshipping him, loving him unconditionally, always.

And Christ, he wants to kiss Sam so bad, wants to taste those lips under his own, wants to show Sam all the pleasures in life, wants to touch him all over, taste him all over, _feel him_-

He's lost count of how many times he's jerked off to images of Sam moving beneath him, staring up into him, begging Dean to fuck him, to love him-

And Sam had never suspected, not once.

Until tonight.

He'd seen it in Sam's face, the pull of it, the fucking hunger and when Sam's eyes had locked on his for that one second, that soft brown gaze had widened at what he saw in Dean, because Dean knew the ravenous need was shining out of him, pulsing out of him in waves of desire-

Sam had looked so goddamn scared-

He'd never meant to scare him, that was the last thing he wanted to do, he just hadn't been able to pull his mask back into place fast enough-

He'd hugged Sam in, felt the hot breath on his neck and then the slide of Sam's caress up his belly and over his heart-

The feel of him shot flicks of desire up Dean's spine and he was helpless, unable to hide and Sam had seen-

Dean shuffles restlessly, watching a lone drop of sweat trickle down the side of Sam's face and God, he just wants a _taste_-

Sam feels his gaze and turns his head, staring at him across the room, bangs hanging down, hiding him as he silently watches Dean back.

He jerks his eyes away, stares at the beer in his hand and mouths the bottle, chugging it down, licking his lips, wishing it was Sam's mouth, wanting more than anything just to touch, to taste-

He'd lay odds that Sam tastes as good as he looks.

He slams the bottle down, scared and pissed off at the want that's rolling around in his belly, it's not fucking _fair_ that his brother has this kind of power over him, that all Sam has to do is _sit_ there, sweating in the heat and he can turn Dean into a twitching mess of hot desire, consumed by thoughts of naked skin and lips and tongues-

God, he just wants this shit to go the fuck _away._

His eyes dart back to Sam and yeah, he's still watching him, calm and quiet and the sheen of his skin glistens and shimmers in the TV light, drops gathering at the vee in his neck where his collarbones meet, like he's wearing some kind of diamond necklace or something-

And Dean wants to run his fingers through it, smear it all over the firm young chest, the strong slender arms, flat belly and lower, over the silky fine hairs just under Sam's navel and down…

And Dean's running a shaky hand over his mouth, trying so hard to resist, he's trembling with effort and goddamn fucking alcohol anyway, it's filling his head with all kinds of thoughts he shouldn't be having right now-

He's yanking open the refrigerator door, great, out of fucking beer and he paces the kitchen floor, rubbing a hand to the back of his neck and makes a decision-

Stops, reaches into the cupboard over the fridge and grabs the Jack Daniels, opens it and takes a long swill, the burn of it tearing at his throat but it snatches away the filth of his thoughts, the sin of it is swallowed down in the fiery liquid pooling in his stomach.

He almost retches it back up again but grits his teeth, holds it down and the swoon of it hits his head almost immediately, making him rock back into the counter for balance, trying not to fall on his goddamn ass-

#

Dean's staring at him.

Sam feels his gaze from across the room and it makes his skin pick and itch, tingling with awareness, hot and hungry and he tries to ignore it, doesn't want Dean to see how aroused he is, how much he wants to touch-

The tension is suffocating, and he struggles to huff in a breath, to control his own heat because he can fucking smell Dean from over here, beer, sweat and pool water and he wants that smell all over him, crushing him under it, making him inhale-

And the thought rocks through him, staggers his brain and leaves him shaking in his skin, weak as a kitten because it's simple and straight forward, obvious and of course.

He loves Dean with every breath, every fiber of his being and he's never gonna be finished, never complete or sated until he can have Dean, every way he wants, anytime he wants-

#

"Dean." Sam stands in the archway, staring at him, skin glistening like he's covered in fine gossamer silk and Christ, he feels the strength fall away, and his knees buckle, weak and shaky at the raw emotion that's just jumped into his heart, into his head and Dean puts the bottle down, grabs the counter behind him for support, holds on tight otherwise he's gonna reach out and drag Sam over, press that body up tight against his and kiss the breath out of his baby brother.

Sam's moves in closer, reaching out for the bottle and snatching it up, tilts it to his mouth and swallows it down, soft brown eyes never leaving Dean's face.

Sam _knows_.

Knows how Dean feels, knows how much Dean wants him, he's reading it all over his face and Dean can't fucking hide it anymore, it's right there, pulsing out of him-

And Dean feels the thrill of fear shoot down his legs at the thought but Sam doesn't look angry, doesn't look sickened at all-

Instead, he's taking another drink before stepping up close, reaching around Dean to put the bottle on the counter and-

His hand lands heavy on Dean's bare shoulder and slides down his bicep, over the crook of elbow and down to his forearm, nice and slow, awakening every nerve under Dean's skin and shooting sparks of pleasure right through his gut, down his legs-

The heat in Sam's hand is blistering his flesh and he can't help it, Dean lists towards him, leans into the touch, closing his eyes and losing himself in the feel of his brother's skin on his.

The smell of him is in Dean's head, chlorine and sweat and a sweet catch underneath, elusive and tantalizing and he breathes in deep, filling his lungs with it-

A soft wet touch covers his mouth, presses him backwards and he jerks back, eyes wide and scared as he stares at Sam, breath pounding out of his chest into the air between them and he lifts a finger, touches his mouth, it's hot and tingly, like a live wire just touched his lips-

"Sam? Sammy?" God, is that his voice, all scared and trembly, sounding young and wrenched out, like he's a little boy again?

And Sam shakes his head, smiling at him with full on dimples, reaches up his other hand to cup Dean's cheek, thumbing across his brother's full lips for a moment before sliding back around, behind his neck and tugging him forward, covering Dean's mouth with his own-

There's a jolt of lightening, a fire burst of light behind his eyes, making him snap backwards but Sam won't let him go, holds on tight and his mouth is stuck to Dean's like fucking glue, moving with him and when he feels Sam's tongue, sliding in, finding his and-

Holy shit!

It's sizzling hot, a freaking inferno, scorching red and turning him into a bundle of nerves, tingling and alive, so fucking alive for the first time in his life-

He's never been kissed like this before-

He moans low in his throat, hands reach up of their own accord, landing on Sam's hips with a smack and yanking him forward, needing to get as close to his brother as humanly possible, wanting to get inside him-

And he's pulling Sam up tight, shoving in with his hips, clanging against Sam's bones, rucking his cock up against his brother's, and rubbing, oh, shit, rubbing to beat the fucking band and feel so good, so nice, so fucking _sweet_-

When Sam pulls away with a gasp, staring into his eyes and then dropping his gaze, staring down between them, and he's reaching down, shoving Dean's shorts off with a hand and when Dean's cock falls out, heavy and stiff, Sam catches his lip between his teeth at the sight, making Dean groan with anticipation-

The hand that touches him is gentle, experimental, grasping him loose around the base before giving a small tug up, and Dean gives a shout of pleasure, hips thrusting forward, "God, Sammy, God…"

Seems to give Sam courage and he tightens his hand, drags his palm up and down on Dean's shaft, making Dean's hips jerk and dance, fingers clenching tight to Sam's hips and finally, he's ripping off Sam's shorts, needing to touch-

And Sam's dick is impressive, bobbing in between them, standing at attention and Dean stares down at it, mouth so hungry for it, warring with himself because he wants to touch Sam in so many places, in so many ways-

Sam is blinking up at him, through his bangs and then he takes Dean's hand, wraps Dean's fingers around himself and starts to pump both of them, helping his brother to touch him like he wants, like he needs-

And the love for Sam surges up, takes him over until he's lost, control gone and he can't fight it any more-

He lunges forward, battens down on Sam's mouth, fucking fire between his lips and his mind is swirling and dancing at the flavor of his baby brother on his tongue and sweet Christ, could he taste any more decadent, any more delicious? Like the fucking tang of life itself and all Dean wants to do is drink it down, make it last forever and Sam is right there with him, sucking down on his tongue, wild and free until Dean can't breathe, can't think a fucking coherent thought and _Jesus_-

It's all Sam, he's everything and everywhere, the only thing that matters in the whole entire world and now Sam's got them both in hand, Sam's dick flush up against his own, hard as stone and rubbing, Christ, rubbing so fucking good, it's making his jaw clench, his eyes squeeze shut and his balls draw up tight and firm, twitching-

And the liquor is warming his belly, twisting through his gut until it's fire there and he's pulling Sam up tight, gyrating his pelvis in because it's so fucking good to just rub himself on Sam's cock, on Sam's fucking rock hard dick and just let himself, for fucking once, just let himself have his baby brother, have this one thing that he's wanted for fucking ever and let tomorrow take care of itself, it's just tonight, right now and God, he wants to fucking come, all over Sam's hand-

And he's groaning into Sam's mouth, sucking his tongue into his own, and the taste of him, fuck, it's ice tea and summer and heat, just the best fucking taste in the world and he's whimpering against Sam's mouth-

"Fuck, Sammy, just- God, you feel so fucking good-"

And he's circling and pressing, hips rolling on in, pressure on then off, sweat dripping and pooling and almost there, almost there-

With a cry of anguish, of pleasure, he's shooting hard, pumping out his load all over both of them, wet and slippery, his "Fuck, fuck!" muffled and hoarse, his spasms short and twitchy, trembling hard and he's huffing against Sam's mouth as Sam continues to rock into him, nostrils flaring and long fingers wrapped tight around them-

And one more rock in, one more pull and Sam goes rigid, holding tense and then erupts, hitting Dean's belly and chest with it, fiery liquid burning into his skin, making him gasp and moan at the heat of it-

They cling to each other until their ragged breath calms down, until their heartbeats return to normal and the shaking has pretty much stopped-

The stare at each other in fear because the line they just crossed is gonna fuck them both up, gonna mess their lives up good-

And Dean makes the worst decision of his life.

He pulls up Sam's shorts and then his own, tucking them both in gently, grabs a dish towel and wipes them both down and then takes Sam by the shoulders, spins him around and gives him a shove out of the kitchen, commanding tone leaving no room for discussion, "Get ready for bed, Sam."

And Sam glances back once, giving him a longing look before stumbling off, into the bathroom and Dean hears the water running, hears Sam brushing his teeth and the toilet flush, watches Sam shuffle down to the bedroom before he follows.

Sam stands in the middle of the room, looking confused and exhausted and Dean pulls back the blankets, helps him lay down and covers him up, tucking him in. He lays a chaste kiss to Sam's forehead before he turns away, voice choked and ragged, "I love you, Sammy-"

"Love you, too." And Sam's reaching out, catching Dean's hand, staring up at Dean earnestly, trying to stay awake long enough to say what he needs to say, "I'm not sorry, Dean."

"Sleep, Sam. We'll talk about it in the morning."

And Sam's eyes close fast, he's asleep within seconds, snoring loudly and Dean's staring down at him in sadness.

#


	2. Chapter 2

Title: The Voice of Truth  
Rating: Mature  
Author: ilikecrystals  
Pairing: Sam/Dean  
Summary: A serial killer forces Sam to reveal his true feelings for Dean. Wincest/Slash/Frottage

Wanted to repost so it matches LJ posts.

A/N: I found this on my flash drive, it was originally written for Live Journal's Big Bang but I didn't get it finished in time. Hope you enjoy and second chapter coming soon.

#

#

But they don't talk about it in the morning. Dean refuses to speak about it again.

And they don't ever touch like that again.

Sam chafes against it, keeps trying to bring it up but Dean deflects, turns away, closes in on himself and leaves Sam frantic, twitchy in his skin-

It's not fucking fair that they can't be this to each other, can't have each other like they both so desperately want and even though Sam knows _why_, understands that it's fucking society, it still makes him more angry than he's ever been in his fucking life-

It's just someone else telling him what he can and can't do.

The anger inside becomes familiar, even comforting and he'll carry it around for the rest of his life.

#

It's easy to turn that anger onto Dad, to fight with Dad after that.

It's a good distraction from lusting after Dean.

Sam puts all of his energy into it and since his Dad is prickly and on edge most of the time anyway, it's easy enough to get him riled, easy to get Dad to bite and snarl at Sam so Sam can respond in kind-

Satisfying.

Until Dean decides to put himself square in the middle and ends up taking the brunt of Dad's anger, sometimes even physical blows if Sam manages to get his father pissed enough, and Dean would butt in, push Sam out of the way, cover Sam's body with his own and let his father beat _his_ back instead.

Sam fucking hates his father.

And Sam loves Dean totally, completely and hopelessly.

Afterwards, Sam would tenderly ice pack and bandage whatever needed mending on Dean's body, telling his brother to just let him and Dad have at it next time, shaking his head at Dean's selflessness and Dean would stare at him like he was crazy even to suggest it.

"Sammy, no, I won't let him hit you." And Dean's eyes would be warm and glowing into Sam's, his hand reaching out to ruffle his long, tangled hair and Sam would shake him off and bend his head, letting his bangs cover his eyes, couldn't let himself look because then Dean would see how much Sam loved, how much Sam wanted-

Christ, he wanted so fucking bad-

He'd helped Dean to bed and laid down next to him, letting himself feel the delicious pain of denial slick through his skin because he was such a depraved pervert to feel this way about his brother-

Sam _deserved_ the ache in his heart, deserved the breath twisting in his gut. He'd hugged Dean in close, listened to the steady breaths, the rise and fall of his brother's broad chest and he'd hear sleep take Dean from him, see the lips go slack and the features become child-like, relaxed in slumber. Sam would wait a few breathless seconds and then move in close, burying his nose in the crook of Dean's neck, losing himself in the scent of his brother's skin and God, Dean smelled so good, so sweet, it was all Sam could do to hold himself back and not kiss and lick the warm flesh.

He'd breathed him in deep, let his palms slide up Dean's body for just a moment, stealing a touch, closing his eyes to remember every second and then the sting of tears would pull him back, turn him away to crawl to his own bed in disgrace, in disgust of himself, crying for what he can never have again.

Time was, he used to sleep with his brother when he was upset or scared, fresh from a nightmare or just plain lonely, climbing in next to the warm body whenever he needed and Dean would turn, wrap his arms around Sam's shaking body and soothe him, half-asleep, humming a mindless tune in his ear -

Sam would sleep like a baby in his brother's arms.

He couldn't do that anymore, though, couldn't find comfort in Dean's embrace, didn't dare, couldn't trust himself not to touch, to caress, to kiss-

It wasn't fucking fair!

And so he'd lay there in his own bed, night after night, listening to Dean breathe, the sounds he made in his sleep quiet torture, leaving Sam aching to be near him, the small snores, the incoherent mumbles, the rustle of Dean's body rolling and stretching near him. Sam tries to push it away, he really does, but in the lonely quiet of the night, he can let himself think, let himself dream and he closes his eyes, picturing Dean above him, moving over him gently, lips kissing, tongue sliding all over him, trailing a path of hot slick everywhere-

Those strong arms would hold him close and Dean would whisper in his ear, calling him Sammy and tell him how much he loved, wanted him-

And Sam would finally be able to touch, run his palms over that muscular back, slide down over Dean's ass and grab hold, grip tight and pull him close-

He wondered if Dean's cock tastes as good as he smells and the thought of it makes him weak-kneed, panting for breath and Sam would rub a shaking hand over his mouth because he'd suddenly have too much spit in there, unable to focus, to think about anything else but Dean's cock.

How would it feel to have Dean inside him, filling him, shoving in hard and fierce, gasping and rutting behind him, laying Sam wide open and making Sam beg for more-

His hard on would be instant and impossible to ignore, no way to sleep until his dick was taken care of and he'd reach inside his shorts, gripping tight and start stroking, silently, whisper soft so he wouldn't wake his brother and he'd watch Dean sleep, staring over at the beautiful shape in the next bed, even the slope of him under the blanket was fucking sexy and hot-

And all it takes is thinking about sucking Dean down his throat, tasting his come and Sam would explode, pumping wet all over his hand and try to stifle his whimpers-

He'd wipe his hand off and roll towards Dean, falling asleep staring over at his brother in the dark.

#

Bernard is the town gossip working in a hair salon on Main Street and he'd filled Sam's ear with more dirt than he'd ever wanted to know. Dressed in tight satin pants and a bright pink shirt, his streaked blond hair coiffed to perfection, Bernard was flamboyant and loud but so friendly that Sam had actually liked him, relating to Dean some of the gossip of the town he'd gleaned from Bernard. The man had told Sam all about the people that had been killed and their secrets.

The librarian was having an affair with a married man who ran a horse ranch outside of town. Her taped confession had been delivered to the wife and twenty four hours later, she'd been found in the stacks on the second floor, her tongue in the pocket of her prim a-line skirt.

The butcher, stealing from his employer and doctoring the books, had his tape delivered to the boss, details of his crime chronicled by the victim himself and one day later, he was found in his freezer, tongue wrapped in white paper in his hand.

The pharmacist who'd thought he'd killed a man by giving him the wrong drug – his tape was delivered to the man's family and his body was stickered with prescriptions, behind his counter, tongue stuffed into a medicine bottle.

The last Bernard had revealed with spiteful glee. The high school football star, a bully and asshole, was a secret cross dresser and his confession was recorded while he was in drag, delivered to his family and his tongue had been stuffed into his stiletto heel, his body trussed up on the fifty yard line.

When Sam had questioned how Bernard knew so much, the man had flapped his hand at Sam and chirped, "Oh, sweetie, everybody tells me everything! You'd be surprised at how much people tell you when you're spending an hour on their hair! I hear more confessions than the parish priest!"

#

Dean's pissed. Worse than that, he's hungry and pissed. Damn it, Sam!

He was supposed to meet Dean a half hour ago, right here, but Sam must still be over chatting with Bernard and Dean knows he's just working the case but he's freaking hungry! His stomach is growling and gurgling at the smells of the place, the pies in the rack have him drooling and Christ, was that a cheeseburger that just walked by? Oh, he is so gonna have him one of those, he nods as he watches the plate get delivered to a customer a couple of booths over. The fries, big and glistening with hot oil, make him weak in the knees and he snatches up a menu eagerly, scanning it quick and almost purring at the descriptions of food.

His brother can starve to death for all he cares. He's gonna eat.

But his eyes keep wandering over to the window, gazing across the street at The Cutting Edge sign waxing and waning in the gentle breeze it's swinging on. With a frustrated, "Shit!", he orders for them both, hardy burger and fries for him, gay wimpy salad for Sam and throws down the menu, slamming through the door and across the street.

He's gonna kick Sam's ass is what he's gonna do, because Sammy knows better than to keep him waiting when there's food involved and he crashes into the lobby, the smells of chemicals and perfumes assaulting his nose after the heavenly odors of the diner.

He spots Sam with Bernard, the man's blond hair and garish clothes hard to miss and just as he's opening his mouth to start his tirade, he pauses-

Sam's laughing.

Huh. He can't remember the last time he heard Sam laugh and like that, head thrown back, all white teeth and smiles, clapping his hands together like he just heard the funniest thing in the world.

Something twists in his chest and turns over, wrenching painfully as he listens to Sam's voice, it's not frustrated, angry or hurting, it's-

Happy, relaxed and lilting. Not Sam, not at all, at least not the Sam of _now_. This voice was a memory of long ago and even then, it had never come with such abandon, such spontaneity, nope, even then, it had been tempered and restrained, held back because of his father's disapproval.

Dean realizes he's smiling, too, at the sound of Sam's laughter and he moves forward, towards them, wanting to share in the joke, share in the chuckle-

But when Sam's eyes meet his, the smile slides right off his face and he straightens up, sobers up and slips back into Sam's _now_ skin and it hits Dean like a slap in the face that he's the one sucking away Sam's laughter, he's the one who makes Sam so sad.

An odd surge of jealousy rolls through him, directed at Bernard because with him, Sam is relaxed, free…why can't he be that way with Dean?

Rather than show the hurt in his heart, he turns away, looking everywhere but at Sam, needing a distraction and when he spots the pretty young blond in the corner, popping gum and curling an old lady's sparse hair, he goes for it, bee-lining straight for her and quickly engaging her in conversation, hitting on her with practiced skill.

#

"Dean."

"Be right with you, Sam." But he doesn't turn, doesn't look and the girl blushes, smiling wide as her fingers work the curlers.

"I get off at six." She answers Dean's question, meeting his eyes in the mirror and he nods at her, giving her a slow lopsided grin and her smile falters, eyes wide as she stares at him, licking her lips with a hungry gaze, "Let me give you my number." And she fishes out a business card out of her pocket, handing it over and he reads it carefully, repeating it back to her before kissing the card (and she swoons at that) and sliding it into his jacket.

"Dean, come on, let's go."

And equilibrium is restored and he can face Sam again, hurt and pain shoved back inside and he's Dean fucking Winchester, ladies man extraordinaire and all around bad ass and he's not jealous, not jealous at all-

Especially not of some gay dude that can turn his brooding, angry brother into a Sam he'll never have the chance to know-

And why the hell does Sam like this guy so much anyway? It's like they had an instant connection and now Sam keeps going back to talk with Bernard even though they're not discussing the case.

As he works it over in his mind, his stomach gives a loud whine of emptiness and comes front and center, demanding attention so Dean files it away to look at it later, in the dark of night before sleep, when he does his best thinking.

He turns and slaps Sam on the back, "Let's go, man. I'm starving."

And he bypasses Sam, gives Bernard a scowling nod, even though the other man beams back at him, and marches out of the store, leading the way to the diner.

#

Bernard watches the brothers leave with a knowing smile on his face.

He sighs loudly as he watches them go because they're both freaking hot and he wouldn't throw either one of them out of his bed for eating crackers. The older one, Dean, mmm, he's all commanding and take charge, the kind of man who would let you know your place in the bedroom, would take you hard and forceful and definitely leave you wanting more. Not to mention those delicious lips-

And Sam…well, that man is sweetness and light, soft and warm inside and built like a fucking brick on the outside, his tight ass alone has Bernard's mouth watering, not to mention those bulging biceps. Too bad, really, because the look on Sam's face when his brother had hit on that sweet young thing was just all fierce and rough and Bernard's gaydar had gone off with clanging alarms.

Oh, yeah, that boy had it bad and for his brother, no less…

Dean had been harder to read but Bernard had seen his face, the hurt that slashed through those glittering green eyes when he'd walked over and Sam had stopped laughing. And that look he'd given Bernard on the way out the door, all predatory and fierce-

Telling Bernard without words, "This one's mine and you leave him alone."

Yeah, Dean's interest in Sam was a little more than brotherly, Bernard would bet his life on it.

He turned back to his customer, giggled and said loudly, "If I didn't know better, I'd say we had some incest in our midst…"

"What do you mean?" The deep voice had tried to hide his interest, his excitement.

"I mean, that Sam fella's got the hots for his brother or I'm not wearing my pink lace panties!" Bernard exclaimed, laughing.

#

The man turned to look after Sam and Dean, his eyes narrowing as he watched them walk away, brain working furiously, calculating-

Just how much Phenobarbital and Sodium Pentothal would he need to down a man of Sam's size?

#

It's late afternoon, dusk already seeping around the edges of the sky, when Sam reaches the motel, looking around for the Impala but Dean must still be out, talking to the locals about the murders.

Damn, he was hoping he'd just have to knock and Dean would let him in. He juggles the stack of thick library books he's holding to the other arm, almost dropping them as he's straining to reach into his pocket for his room key. His fingers finally close on the card and he pulls it out, flips it around and is just inserting it into the lock when he sees it-

It's glinting at him in the light of the street lamps, looks like glass but it's right in front of the door and he knows it wasn't there when they left this morning or they'd have stepped on it. What the hell is it?

And he squats down to see, reaching out with his key-holding hand to pick it up and it's a hypodermic needle, liquid still in the chamber and he holds it up to the light, shaking it lightly, trying to identify it-

Something heavy rams into him from behind, driving him forward into the wooden door and he slams in headfirst, hitting hard, seeing stars, the fierce hands on his shoulders pulling back, shoving again and something's dripping into his eyes, making it hard to see. He hangs onto consciousness by a thread, seeing flashes of light but everything else is a blur and the sting of needle into his neck makes him jerk back, away but it's too late, the swoon of sedative washes over his mind, over his muscles and makes him loose, wobbly, unable to stand and the ground comes up fast to meet him-

#

With quiet efficiency, the man gathers up the books scattered on the ground, scoops up the motel key from Sam's limp hand and opens the door, putting the books and key on the desk before he steps back out, closing the knob behind him. He kicks away the decoy hypodermic needle, pocketing his own retractable one and reaches down to shift Sam onto his back, rolling him over with a thud onto the ground.

Shit, he's a big freaking man…

He grabs Sam's feet, dragging him by the boots to his waiting van, frantic and hurrying because this was the only risk, this part, where he can be seen, exposed but thank God the motel is on the outskirts of town and not very crowded. He manages to get him to the van, hefting the large man's top half up, grunting with all of his strength to roll him inside, shoving his legs in after and slamming the door shut with a bang. He lets himself catch his breath, staring down at Sam with hatred, with disgust and then he takes up his rope, binding Sam's hands and feet behind him like he's a calf well-roped and then-

He can't help himself-

He spits on him. Nothing worse than a fucking faggot in God's eyes and incestuous thoughts are even worse, nothing lower and since he's been blessed with being God's warrior and His eyes on earth, he is repulsed and sickened for the Holy One.

He's out of the van a second later, checking the area to make sure he's left nothing behind and then he's behind the wheel, cruising down the road, on his way to the abandoned mine that houses his laboratory, his workshop, and his studio, where he films the last words, the beautiful truth and makes his sacrifice to God.

#

Dean sees it the minute he gets out of the car.

_No._

The package is wrapped in brown paper, propped against the door and his heart plummets, drops to his gut and twists deep, balls drawn up tight in mind-numbing terror-

The crash of despair crushes his breath, and he's wheezing for air, lungs shutting down and he hears the whimper break out of his throat, desolate, desperate-

_Jesus Christ, no._

He can barely make himself move forward, every nerve in his body screaming at him to run, to fucking run away and not look at it, not touch it-

Forces himself to bend and pick it up, his hands shaking so bad he almost drops it and Christ, he's dizzy, fucking terrified-

Eyes darting like a trapped animal, clutching the packet to his chest, he searches the shadows for movement, for any goddamn clue of someone watching, someone waiting-

Can't breathe, can't fucking breathe at all-

He's hyperventilating, eyes flicking into the night, senses on fire and twitching in denial-

Not happening, this isn't happening-

Fuck, he was only gone for a few hours-

His heart, Jesus, it's jumping and pounding against his ribs, so fucking loud it's filling his head, and he's never been so scared in all his life, his muscles drawing up, tensing, getting ready for battle, for flight because the timer's on, countdown has begun and he's out of goddamn time-

Sam's out of goddamn time-

He finally breaks, draws in a whooping gasp of air and screams with everything he has, everything he is-

"Sam! Sammy!"

Crickets rasp back at him and in his panicked mind it sounds like they're talking, laughing back at him, _too late, too late…_

#

Dean slides the DVD into the computer, hands shaking so bad it's two tries before he gets it in and he hits play, stands back-

#

"The truth will set you free. Tell me the truth!"

That voice, sliding and swirling in his brain, he can't get away from it, it keeps repeating the same fucking thing over and over again, echoing relentless, for freaking hours now and shit, when's it gonna stop goddamn talking?

"The truth, I need the truth!"

"Go…fuck…yourself…" It's all Sam can do to breath out the words and he feels the surge through his body, the fucking drugs being pushed into him and Jesus, he doesn't know how much more of this he can take because it'd be so fucking easy to admit what's in his heart, how much he wants-

_But the bastard kills the victims when they admit, when they confess, so can't tell, can't tell-_

"Sam! I need you to clean your soul! God commands it! Release the secrets and only then can you be free!"

Free, yes, he wants so much to be free, out from under this fucking weight on his shoulders, just tell what's in his heart and fucking society be damned-

He loves Dean, loves him, and God, he wants him so _fucking_ much, it's all he can think about, all he can breathe-

He struggles for words, marbles in his mouth and his tongue isn't working right but he still fights because it's a secret-

_Can't let it show, go to hell if you let it show-_

_A fucking sin is what it is, incest, wanting to fuck your brother, taste your brother everywhere, wanting to feel his cock inside you, wanting him to take you, own you-_

"He whose walk is blameless and who does what is righteous, who speaks the truth from his heart"

Speaks the truth from his heart, yeah, ok, he can do that and at least Dean will know, even if Sam is dead and gone, Dean will know how he felt, right up to the end-

_No! That's when he gets you!_ His lips are numb around the words, "Fuck you, asshole!"

"The Lord detests lying lips, but he delights in men who are truthful."

The surge of another push of truth serum floats through his body, he knows the feeling now, it's rolling and soft, making his arms heavy and his tongue not work quite right and he's fighting the urge to laugh because this is ridiculous-

The guy's giving him way too much, his heart is pounding out and he's hanging onto consciousness by a thin white thread, he can see it, in his mind's eye, there it is, and he's clinging to it, clawing at it but he can't see, his vision is blurred, double and triple vision and shit! He blinks hard, wishes he could focus but that's not happening any time soon and his head falls back against the chair, he's slumped down into a mindless puddle of twitching nerves and all he can do is roll his head back and forth, trying to concentrate-

The slither of Pentathol comes in his periphery, like a shadow he can't see but knows is there and it swirls through, dizzying and disorienting, and he can't grit his teeth, can't lift his eyebrows, his face isn't working right, the nerves sedated, slow-acting and his lips are numb and cold-

"Tell me the truth, Sam! I command it! God commands it!"

_Well, who is he to disobey God?_ He's spent most of his life denying his feelings for his brother and disobeying his father so should he just keep doing what's comfortable or should he reveal, come clean before he gets ripped apart, torn in two and life as he knows it ends, bloody and harsh.

"You want Dean, don't you? Want to have incestuous relations with him, want to fuck him, don't you? I know how it is, Sam, I know it's like a dead weight around your neck and you'll feel so much better, so much lighter if you just tell the truth. The truth will release you, will set you free. Tell me how much you want your brother!"

And it is so fucking heavy, this truth inside of him and it would be just awesome to be honest finally and just goddamn _say_ it, everything he feels, everything he wants-

No, can't do that, can't reveal because Sam knows, even in the hazy fog floating through his head, that if he confesses, he dies.

Dean will see him, see this and he'll _know_ and Sam doesn't want his brother's last memories of him to be sullied by his dirty little secrets.

On the other hand, this may be the last chance he gets to talk to Dean and suddenly, he wants Dean to know how he feels, how he's always felt and before he can stop it, it's flooding out of his mouth in filthy waves-

His voice is hoarse, harsh and broken and he gives a sob of pain because he can't hold it back any longer-

"Yes, yes, fucking yes, ok?"

"Say it, Sam! The truth! Tell me the truth!"

He's mumbling now, almost incoherent in his own ears, "Want, want Dean…love him so fucking much….want him…his skin on me…his mouth…God, wanna-wanna taste…" And then a surge of anger bolts through him, making him yell at the persistent voice surrounding him, "Goddamn it, are you fucking happy now? Yes, ok? I want, his-Jesus, want him, all of him, on me, in me…want to kiss him…everywhere and touch him, feel him on me, need him-"

Sam's eyes are huge, wide and scared, rolling around trying to keep on track, keep in line and he's panting out the effects of the drugs, licking his lips, dry, so dry he'd kill for a freaking drop of water right about now-

Can't stop talking now that it's started, all his secrets are spilling out of him, the dizzying slide of drugs in his brain making it hard to hold his head up, but he keeps going because if it's gonna end here and now then Dean's gonna know it all-

Sam's knuckles are clenched bone white and he's panting out the words now "Wanna take him in my mouth, suck him down…until he can't stand it anymore and he's shooting off in my mouth, wanna watch his face…God, his face…so gorgeous, beautiful…he's beautiful…my Dean, all mine no matter what and he'll take care of me…need him to take care of me, like always…Jesus Christ, so bad sometimes I can't stand it-"

"Dean, Dean, man, if you're listening, if you're there, then you know I'm gonna be dead soon and you need to goddamn know–I'm so grateful you were my brother, I was lucky to have you, never appreciated just how much you were always there and I need to tell you how I feel, how much I want, I need-"

"Christ, you're everything, every fucking thing I've ever wanted in my life and please, please, if you don't know anything else, just know how much I goddamn love you and I would lay my life down for you right the fuck now if I could-"

"This, this thing inside me…this filthy thing inside me that makes me want you…it sucks my life away and…I hate…hate so fucking much because I can't tell you and it's been so freaking hard keeping it hidden, all these years. That night, that time we were together, best time of my life, man and all I ever wanted to do was be with you again and I'm sorry, I'm fucking so sorry, never wanted you to know, not like this-"

"That's it-keep talking, there is release in truth-"

"SHUT THE FUCK UP! Jesus Christ, you're such a fucking asshole! I'm talking to my brother and you can just stay the hell out of it-"

"Fuck! I can't feel my legs, God, Dean, if you get this, please know that I love you and you're everything, everything I ever wanted and needed and I never left you – I only left Dad and I'm sorry, so sorry that it hurt you when I left, it wasn't what I meant to happen and I'm-, I would never have left you willingly, not you, Dean, never you because I love you and-"

And Sam slides into unconsciousness, mumbling out the last few words "Can't live without you-" before his head slumps forward, mouth slack and eyes fluttering shut.

The disembodied voice speaks to the camera, "Your brother did well, confessing his sins before God and now that his soul has been freed, it's time to free his body from this earthly plane. He will be conscious and awake for his death because it is then his essence will be released and lifted up to heaven. You should be very proud of him, Dean Winchester. He died fighting, as a Godly man should. I will make sure he doesn't suffer."

#

The tape stops abruptly after that and Dean has his face right up to the screen, holding onto the computer with both hands, "Sam! Sammy!"

And he's pounding his fists on the top of the table, "You son of a bitch, you fucking son of a bitch! If you goddamn hurt him, I will kill you, I will fucking hunt you down-" and lashes out, sweeping his arm and crashing everything on the table to the floor, the crash of a glass shattering loud in the air. He whirls away, heart pounding in his chest, he's gonna fucking kill that son of a bitch if he so much as breathes on Sam wrong-

Crap, that fucker had pumped Sam so full of drugs that his brother couldn't even see straight and his words were slurred, almost incoherent, and Sam was stuttering, stumbling all over himself trying to talk.

He'd heard, though, heard all of Sam's words, everything his brother said, loud and clear, even though Dean's head is already working overtime trying to deny it-

And he shakes it off, can't think about what Sam was saying now, just gotta focus on finding him before it's too late, gotta save him before the bastard kills Sam and he's gonna rip the jerk apart limb from fucking limb for taking Sam, for bringing Sam to his knees and making him reveal-

And suddenly, like a slap to the face, he's jerking back, gasping with the truth of it, Jesus Fuck, all this time Sam has wanted him, too, wanted to be with him again just like Dean wants-

And Dean staggers over to the bed, thumping down hard, chest heaving like he just ran a frigging marathon and he's sweating, God, his body is covered with it, it's oily slick and clammy-

Sam…

Sammy-

Dean swipes a hand over his mouth, wiping away the beads of sweat and shit, he's shaking, can't stop the trembling that's racking through his whole body-

The memories rush back in, leaving him trembling-

God, that night…

So fucking long ago and all he has to do is close his eyes and it's right there again, alive and bright, and he remembers every second, every touch that Sam gave him, every soft huff of breath, his brother's mouth, the sweet taste of it and the feel of him, of them together, it was right and good-

The love for Sam, the freaking intense, all-consuming hunger that he harbors in his heart, in his gut for his brother…he'd thought he'd won, thought it was shoved so far down it wouldn't ever be able to surface again and here the fuck it is-

The goddamn yearning that's never gone away, that's always in the back of his mind-

And the tears sting at his eyes, a sob working up out of his chest because the fucking dirty feeling shrouds over him again, cloaking him in the perverted filth because he wants to fuck his brother, love his brother-

For years, seems like fucking forever, he's dreamt about that night with Sam, it's the only thing he had when Sam had left him, gone to college, the only thing that kept him going, knowing his brother felt _something_ for him that night, had wanted him once-

He'd done what he had to, buried the lust for Sam deep inside himself, had to, to make sure he could protect Sam, take care of him-

Watching Sam grow into a young man, so handsome, so beautiful and Dean was so goddamn torn between big brother pride and love and his own fucking want for that sweet body, wanting to kiss that mouth again, touch Sam's naked skin, _have_ Sam just once more-

Just one more time and he would have been satisfied, sated, he knows he would have. He just didn't get enough the first time, that was all, it had happened too fast, was over too quick and he wanted more, wanted all of Sam.

Just once.

Every night, since he'd dragged Sam's ass back from school, he'd listen to his brother's soft sounds in the dark and his mind would bring him places he could never even speak of in the waking hours of day, images of Sam's hot and naked body, growing hard under his mouth and hands, and God, he wanted to lick Sam all over, take his cock into his own mouth and bring Sam to screaming ecstasy over and over again, watch his brother gasp and thrust into his mouth until he came and then Dean would swallow and drink, quench his thirst for Sam finally-

Dean had lost count of how many times he'd jerked off thinking about fucking Sam, how many nights he'd watched his brother sleep and lick his lips at the figure in the next bed, wanting him so bad, the fucking hunger in his gut was relentless, killing him slowly. Sam never suspected, never once, that Dean was eaten up with the longing, the need to taste his brother, touch his brother in all the ways he shouldn't-

Sometimes, it overwhelmed him and he'd make a break for it, run away as far and as fast as he could, find some chick to fuck and he'd close his eyes, and Sam would be there, smiling at him, looking at him with such love, such worship and he'd shove in harder and harder, pretend it was Sam he was loving on, the Sammy in his mind's eye meeting him thrust for thrust, and Dean would shoot his load in with a cry of release, dream-Sammy doing the same, erupting all over their flesh between them and then Sam would reach up, pull him down for a sweet kiss and they'd breathe together, rocking through their orgasm until they could fucking think again-

#

With a jerk of pain, he shakes it off, pushes it away because he can't think of that now, needs to get Sam back and then they can talk, can work through this huge freaking thing between them but now-

Sam's gonna be dead soon unless he can find him, unless he can freaking think and he takes in a deep whoop of air, forcing his mind to focus, think like the hunter he is-

Who the hell knew about this? Who in this one horse freaking back water town would know, would ever guess Sam's secret?

And like a lock clicking into place, he knows, just like that.

Bernard.

#

#


	3. Chapter 3

#

#

"Who did you tell and what did you say?" He can hear the fear in his own voice, the underlying panic, cracking through his throat shrill and fierce as he grabs the smaller man and slams him into the wall, the broom Bernard had been holding clattering away in the quiet salon-

He'd been closing up when Dean had stormed in, eyebrows jerking up in surprise as the door crashed inward, banging loud-

Now Dean's looming over him and Bernard is gasping, wide-eyed-

"What-what are you talking about? Tell what about who?" Bernard's voice is shaking and he's staring up into Dean's angry green eyes, flinching back when Dean bares his teeth and moves in closer-

"Sam! Who did you tell about Sam?"

"What about Sam?" Bernard sounds genuinely confused, "Is he alright? Where is he?"

"Someone took him, that's where!" And Dean's voice cracks and breaks as he says the words out loud, "They-they took him and I got a video-"

Bernard's eyes go wide because he knows what that means, makes the connect faster than Dean expected and he cries out, grabbing Dean's arm in a solid grip, "Oh my God! Not Sam! No, not-not him! Damn it!"

And Dean feels the sting of tears in his eyes and clamps down on it, grits his jaw tightly because _he will not break down, goddamn it!_ Sammy needs him to be strong!

His breath whistles through his clenched teeth as he fights, pushing his terror down and growling out the words, "You said something, mentioned or hinted or winked or fucking _something_ and the killer heard you, or someone else did and told the killer and now Sam's fucking gonna die because of you!" He tightens his grip on Bernard's shoulders and gives him a hard shake, "And I need to know what the fuck you said and who you said it to!"

"Um, I…" Bernard's face flushes and he seems afraid to meet Dean's eyes but then his head comes up and he tells Dean, point blank and honest, "I said something like Sam had the hots for you."

"What? Why would you say something like that?" Dean's hands fall to his sides and he's clenching his fists, breathing hard, struggling not beat the other man's face to a pulp.

Bernard shrugs, "Because it's true. I saw his face when you walked away and started talking to Janine, saw how he looked at you and I knew it, in my gut, that he, uh, wanted you like that and he has for quite a while because he seemed _used_ to the feeling, almost resigned to it-"

"And you couldn't have kept it to your fucking self? You just had to tell people that, about me and my brother?" Dean's getting closer and closer to slamming a fist into this asshole's nose.

"I-I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said anything. I spoke without thinking and I sure didn't mean for Sam or you to get hurt. But, Dean, it couldn't have been any of the people that were there, they're all friends of mine and I've known them for years."

"Did you talk about Sam anywhere else?"

Bernard shakes his head, "No. No, I didn't" and then gapes at Dean, realization hitting hard, "Oh my God! One of my friends is the murderer!"

"Or told the murderer about it. Who was in the shop? I need names-"

Bernard nods and the words are falling out of his mouth so fast, it's a flood, "Janine, Janine Michaels was the girl you were trying to date, she's got a six year old little boy who's autistic and she works three jobs to keep him in a special school-"

"Pastor Flynn was there, I was working on him, comes in once a week, standard crew cut with a buzzer and I keep talking to him about jazzing it up a little but he never wants to try anything new-"

"Bernard, focus!"

"Oh, yeah, ok…um…the sheriff was there getting his bi-weekly trim, my boss Norm was working on him-"

"Norm?"

"Yeah, Norman Patterson, he, uh, owns the shop where I work and he's almost as good with hair as I am-"

"What about the guy at Janine's stall? Who was that?

"Um…oh, yeah, Fred…Fred Griffen…he works in the hospital next town over but he lives here, commutes every day-"

"What does he do at the hospital?"

"He's one of those…oh, I can't remember the name but he gives the drugs that put you to sleep for an operation."

"Anesthesiologist." Dean mutters with a sinking heart, thinking about how drugged Sam had been in the tape and feeling his adrenaline kicking up to high gear, "Looks like I'm gonna start with him."

#

He steps back, turns fast, twisting away and it hits him hard, Sam's probably gonna die here, in this freaking shit hole of a town and all because some asshole felt the need to out his brother for fun. Dean's hands slap onto the counter and he's holding on tight because he doesn't think he can stop himself from lashing out and hitting the fucking bastard in the mouth before he goes-

Bernard had done this, he was the one who had to say everything out the fuck loud and it was his fault Sam was in this mess. If he'da just kept his freaking mouth shut!

Dean knows it's not Bernard's fault, not really, knows the true blame lies with the mother fucking killer but it's easy to blame the flashy character right now because he's here and Sam isn't-

And God, he can feel the clock ticking, Sammy's time is running out because once he's confessed, he's got less than a day and then he's-

Dean can't even think it, can't allow the thought in his mind because it'll make him frantic, unable to focus and he won't be any help at all to Sam that way-

But how the fuck is he supposed to find him when the townspeople won't tell him a freaking thing, Sam was the one who had the in with Bernard but when Dean was around, people shut up tighter than Fort Knox and _Christ_-

Maybe he should go on the news, tell them what's happened to Sam and maybe, someone, some where saw _some_ fucking thing that'll give him a clue-

He feels the hand on his shoulder and he's trembling under the touch, he can't stop himself, crap, he's so goddamn scared for Sam and he feels the sting of hot tears at the back of his eyes, hears the whimper tear out of his throat and he just keeps thinking about Sam saying he never left Dean and that he was sorry-

He never knew how much he needed Sam to say that, never knew how hurt he was when Sam left, it was a gaping hole in his heart that Sam just filled, finally healed and it's too late to help either one of them because Sam's out of time.

"Dean." The hand gives him a shake and Bernard's voice is low, urgent, "If I did this, if I'm responsible for Sam's being hurt, then I'm going to help to save him."

Dean unclenches his eyes and turns, staring into the soft brown eyes of the shorter man and gives a smirk of disbelief until he sees the flash of anger snap back at him and Bernard is gritting out, "What, you think a fag won't be able to help you? You think I'm weak, helpless?"

He feels the flush on his face, "No, it's not that, it's just, you're not like me and Sam…you don't know what we're dealing with. It might end up being something, um, not natural."

"What does that mean, not natural? Like a ghost or something? Let me tell you something – there was no ghost in the shop when I said what I said, there were only human beings in there and one of them did this to Sam. No matter what else they're doing, they're human and I can help you find them."

Dean shakes his head, "I'm sorry, but I can't let you. I can't be responsible for your safety when I've got to focus on finding my brother."

Bernard gives a snort of disgust and puts an elbow on the counter, "I'll arm wrestle you for it."

"What? I don't have time for this fucking shit-"

"You don't have time to do this without me. Nobody in town's gonna help you willingly but with me there, you might get some information and not have to beat it out of people. Now, put up or shut up. What's the matter? Scared of the gay man?"

Dean narrows his eyes, gritting his teeth at the challenge and nods, "Fine. I win, you stay here."

"I win, I go with you, all the way to the end. Agreed?"

Dean puts his arm up, flexing his fingers, "Yeah, sure, whatever."

They clasp hands and Dean is prepared to take it easy on Bernard, knowing he can win at any time and once their hands tightened and they start to bear down on each other, Dean knows he's lost because the other man is strong as an ox, muscles bulging under his shimmering sleeve, tendons in his wrist and hands stretched taut and he stares right into Dean's eyes, victory shining out as he gives a sweet smile and smashes Dean's fist down onto the counter.

Dean's mouth is hanging open as he stares down at their hands and then he looks back at Bernard in surprise.

Bernard laughs and shakes his head, "I used to be a pretty well known boxer and I keep in shape. Plus, when you're small and gay, you gotta know how to take care of yourself cause some people are assholes, you know? Now let's go."

#

Fred Griffen lives in an apartment over the local bar and he answers the door on the second rap of Dean's knuckles, staring out in surprise at the unlikely pair standing in his entryway.

"Bern, what's up?" Fred nods at Dean and pushes open the door, stands back so they can come in.

"Fred, you know Dean Winchester? He and his brother Sam were in the shop today when you were getting your hair cut?"

"A-yuh."

"Well, Sam's been kidnapped and Dean's gotten the video tape already. You remember what I said about Sam?"

Fred's eyes narrow, "You said he was in love with his brother." And he stares at Dean in frank appraisal, "You in love back with him?"

Dean closes his eyes against the question, "Fuck…" And then he lunges at Fred, shoves him up against a wall, "You got a problem with that if I am? You gonna kidnap me, too? Only problem is, if you kill Sam, I got no one to confess too because no one else is gonna care!"

Fred pushes at Dean's hands clenched in his shirt, "What the hell are you talking about? I didn't kidnap anybody! Bernard, what the devil is going on here? You tell him I did something to his brother?"

Bernard is pulling at Dean's shoulder, hand in between the two men to yank at Dean's fists, trying to get him to release Fred but Dean's having none of it-

"Where's Sam, you fuck? Where is he? Did you kill him already?"

The other man is shoving back now, "Wait, just wait a goddamn minute! I didn't do anything to your brother. I been at work all day, left town right after my hair cut and came back about twenty minutes ago. I got witnesses at the hospital can swear to it. It wasn't me, man, I didn't do it."

Dean blinks hard at the man, tightening up his shirt around his throat and Bernard is yelling at him, "Dean, Dean, let him go! He didn't do it!" and it takes a few minutes to hear the words because he just wants to strangle the man dead-

When they finally penetrate, he allows Bernard to pull him away, to yank his numb fingers off the guy's collar and to push him back. Bernard gets in front of Dean's line of vision and looks at him, "Ok? You ok?"

And Dean nods tight, can't speak because it's too much right now and Bernard turns back to Fred, "Sorry, Fred, I think Dean's scared out of his mind right now and he didn't mean any harm. Can we ask you some questions?"

#

After Fred stopped thinking Dean was going to kill him, he opened up and told them that he had already been questioned by police, because of his job, and had found out the killer had used Sodium Pentothal and Phenobarbital to drug his victims and get them to tell the truth.

"What are those?" Dean asked, frowning, eyes narrowed at the other man.

Fred cleared his throat, gaze flicking nervously to Dean, "They're sedatives. Pentothal was famous years ago as a 'truth serum' used in spy agencies mostly as an alternative to torture. They're fast acting, once they get into the blood stream the person goes down pretty fast, within five seconds but you gotta be careful because if you give too much, it can depress respirations and you can kill the person. So, it's usually given in smaller doses until the person is relaxed and sleepy. It works on receptors in the brain that release inhibitions, similar to alcohol but stronger and more. You know how when you get drunk, you end up telling people things you never would sober? Well, it's like that, only a thousand times magnified."

Dean can barely speak, afraid to know the answer, "How-how do you know if the person's been given too much?"

"Well, it happens fast, they go right from loopy to not being able to breathe in a matter of seconds."

"What if they lose consciousness? Does that mean they've had too much?"

"No, because the whole point of the drug is to make the person sleep eventually. So, it just means it's done its job. The 'truth serum' part happens just before, before the person feels the sedative effects and is just 'drunk'"

Bernard pipes up, "How the hell would a person get drugs like this unless he worked in a hospital or pharmacy?"

Fred shrugs, "They're actually prescribed frequently for epileptics, to control seizures or for people who have trouble sleeping. So a lot of people have them."

Dean and Bernard lock eyes, and Dean mutters harshly "Fucking terrific."

#

Pastor Flynn is asleep when they knock, peering out at them owlishly from his sleep-rubbed eyes and inviting them into his kitchen, moving to the coffee pot as Bernard tells him why they've come. Dean is oddly silent in the presence of the pastor and Bernard gives him a quick glance before stepping forward, taking control-

Dean watches the pastor's face carefully, looking for the slightest flicker of recognition, the merest glance of disgust across the other man's face when Bernard asks if he remembers Sam and Dean from the shop today and what he, Bernard, said as Sam left.

The clergy man's face gets a little red, "Of course I remember, Bernard. You said he lusted after his brother and I daresay you were right. I saw the young man's face as well and he certainly was saddened by your-" he motions to Dean, "ah, interest in the young Janine."

Dean narrows his eyes at the man, searching his features as Bernard continues, "Sam's gone missing, Pastor, right after that and Dean's received a video tape."

The man freezes for a second, then he steps towards Dean, grabbing him by the shoulder and squeezing tight, "Oh, no! I'm so sorry, Dean. How can I help?"

Dean looks down at the hand on him and slides his eyes back up, barely able to stop himself from shoving away the Pastor's touch, "On the tape, the man that took Sam keeps quoting scripture, keeps talking about God and how Sam's a sinner and the truth is gonna set him free. You know anything about that, Padre?"

"What do you mean? Why would I know anything about th- Wait a minute, you're not here for my help. You think I did this, don't you? You think I took your brother and that I'm the killer that's been terrorizing our town?"

Dean growls at him, "Did you?"

Bernard cuts in fast, trying to smooth the way "Pastor, you were the only one of four other people besides Dean and myself that were in the shop. We're just…um, asking questions, is all, trying to see-"

But the other man doesn't look away from Dean's hard gaze, doesn't drop his eyes or make any movement, simply stares at Dean for a moment before he says, "You said you heard the man's voice. Was it my voice?"

And Dean's eyes flicker and he takes in a breath. Of course, he _heard_ the guy! He's the best clue they have and he closes his eyes, remembering the cadence, the intonation and it _could_ have been the pastor's voice but it was deeper, rougher, almost sing-song-

He looks back at Pastor Flynn, "It could have been you, if you had been trying to disguise it, yes."

The other man sighs, "It wasn't me, Dean, I didn't take your brother. After I left the shop, I came back here and a parishioner was waiting for me, she needed my help with an abusive spouse so I spent the rest of the day first at the police station with her and then helping her find a safe place to stay. I was with her until after supper time, until about six and after that, I was in service."

"Service?"

"Yes, there's a seven o'clock mass every Friday night. All of four people showed up but they can verify that I was there. What time did all this happen?"

"Between five and nine tonight, that's the only time we were separated."

"So I couldn't have done it, you see. I was with someone the whole time."

Dean nods, screwing his eyes shut for a moment as the fear wells back up inside him, tries to take over. A hand on his arm has him opening, staring into the pastor's kind eyes, "Dean, I'm so sorry."

And he's blinking hard, swallowing fast, trying to keep back the tears and goddamn focus on the problem at hand. If only he's stayed with Sam! None of this would have happened. Then he gives a disgusted snort, if only Sam had trusted him with the truth about how he felt, he could have protected him, never left his side and made sure he was ok. The fucking Winchester code of silence! He's sick to death of it!

Right then and there, he makes a promise to him and Sammy. _If I get you back __al__ive, man, we are gonna hash this shit out and get it straight._ _No more hiding, no more secrets, it's gonna be brut__al__ and honest and we're fin__al__ly gonna t__al__k and it'll be better for us, when we're done. The truth will set us both free._

He shoots Bernard a look, "Let's go."

The pastor drops his hand, "If I can help in any way, please let me know."

Dean glances back, "Thanks, Padre."

#

Dean's already ruled out the sheriff because he was at the county offices when Sam was being kidnapped, talking to the man himself. Unless the lawman had an accomplice, he wasn't the killer.

On their way to Bernard's boss's house, Dean questions the other man about his own past, "So, I gotta ask, why haven't you been kidnapped, do you think? I mean, you are the flashiest gay dude I've ever met so why haven't you been a target? I don't get it-"

Bernard smiles at him, "It took me most of my life to come out and admit who I am and what my sexual preferences are but now that I have, I've got no more secrets, Dean. I am who I am, I'm proud of who I am and I don't give a rat's ass who knows it. There's nothing more for me to confess. I'm sure the murderer is pissed off as all hell that I'm here, in his face and he can't take me out, not and follow his own MO and it's probably eating at him like nothing else. But, point is, no secrets, no 'truth shall set you free' shit for me because I already _am_ free."

Dean stares at him, admiration at his eyes, "I wish I had half of your confidence, you know? I mean, it'd be nice to just be myself, once in a while, I mean, really just be me."

Bernard laughs and slaps him on the shoulder, "I highly recommend you try it. It's very liberating!"

Dean nods and thinks of Sam.

#

Dean's eyes are burning, trying to close but he can't let them, gotta keep watch-

No one's home at the Patterson house so they're staking out the place, swigging back cupfuls of thick strong coffee, splashing cold water on their faces and trying to stay awake, waiting for Norm to come home.

Dean leans back and rubs his eyes, sighs deep and Bernard glances over, "Why don't you rest your head for a minute? I'll keep an eye out for you."

"Sure?"

"No problem."

So Dean dozes, lets his mind slide into fitful dreams-

Sam is standing in front of him, staring down at him, love shining out of his warm doe eyes and suddenly drops to his knees, between Dean's legs, sliding his hands up Dean's thighs and holding on tight, like Dean may fly away if Sam doesn't keep hold of him.

He stares into Dean's eyes, "Do you want me, Dean? Do you want to touch me, kiss me, fuck me? Can you just love me like I love you?"

And Dean can and does, the huge raw passion rearing up its head and taking over, taking control and he reaches out, grabs Sam's body to pull him in close but it's ethereal, like mist and his fingers slide right through-

_Sam, don't go! Need, need you so bad, Sammy!_

And Sam comes back, real and warm under Dean's fingers and he's sliding over Sam's body, the hard tight muscles rippling with pleasure, with heat and he bends forward, licking first and then sucking on a nipple, moaning his ecstasy at the taste of Sam in his mouth-

God, he tastes so fucking _sweet_!

Sweet wine and honey and he wants more of that taste, more of his brother's tantalizing essence on his tongue and he slides up his mouth, wanting the flavor of those full lips on his own, wanting Sam's breath to fill his lungs and-

Shit, wants to just touch him all over, everywhere, run his fingers over that hot skin and feel the nerves come alive in there, all for him, all from him and he wants to be the only one who wakes Sam up like that, makes him crave only Dean-

With a jolt, he jerks forward, gasping at the harsh ache in his chest, the gaping wound in his heart-

Fuck, he's in love with Sam! He doesn't just lust after him, he fucking loves him, whole heart and soul love, and there's no way he's gonna let Sam die in this goddamn back water shit of a town, no fucking way-

Nope, he's gonna find Sam and save him and then-

Well, then he and Sam are gonna get a few things straight.

#

Bernard watches Dean sleep.

Sees the restlessness, the pain slash across his features and remembers Dean's look when he'd talked about just being himself.

His face had gone all wistful and sad, hurt shining out of those delicious green eyes and he'd known, known it in his gut that Dean was thinking of his brother-

And now, in his dreams, Dean's panting out Sam's name and it doesn't take a genius to figure out that he's having a pretty erotic little party in his head, he's sweating like crazy and, Bernard notes with a grin, he's got a hard on happening to beat the band-

Man, Dean has it bad, worse than Sam and Bernard nervously bites at a thumbnail, worrying about both brothers, wondering if they'll ever be able to confess their true feelings to each other and hoping that they can work things out, find a way to be together because it's pretty damn obvious that Dean feels a lot more for Sam than he's revealing and Dean just needs to get with the program, spit out the truth and deal with the consequences-

When Dean jerks himself awake, Sam's name on his lips, Bernard reaches out a hand, presses it to the hard forearm and murmurs, "You'll be with him soon, Dean. Just don't fuck it up!"

Dean glares at him, "What? What are you talking about?"

Bernard gives him a sad smile, "You love Sam just as much as Sam loves you. Don't let society tell you what's right and wrong…listen to what your heart is saying and just follow that. Tell him how you feel and do whatever you can to keep him with you. Grab hold of him tight and don't let go because I have a feeling if you let this get past you, you'll regret it for the rest of your life. That's all I'm saying. The rest is up to you."

And Dean stares at him, searching his face before looking away, lips quivering with emotion, a tic in his cheek twitching, giving away his jumping nerves he's trying so hard to cover. Then, to Bernard's utter shock, Dean turns back to him and nods, "I intend to, man. I intend to."

#

The car whizzes past them, pulls into the driveway and parks, the long figure stalking up to the house in shadows-

And Dean is out of the car fast, up the sidewalk and clearing his throat, "Excuse me."

The man that turns is tall, slender and balding, the frown lines on his face cut deep and his voice is sing-song, melodic, "Yes, can I help you?"

Dean doesn't remember him from the shop, in fact, could swear he's never laid eyes on him before because he's the kind of man that blends into the background, unnoticed and unimportant-

Bernard is next to him, "Hi Norm, how you doing? This is Dean Winchester and he's asking for our help. His brother was taken today, kidnapped and is most likely the next victim of the 'truth killer' and he wants to ask you some questions."

The puzzled looks makes the frown lines deepen even more, if that's possible, "Questions? What kind of questions? I don't know anything-"

"Yeah, I know, but you were in the shop today when I made the remark about Sam having feelings for Dean, incestuous feelings and we're asking everyone who was there to tell us where they've been, you know, and with who…like establishing an alibi…because Sam's running out of time, Dean's already gotten his confession and now-"

Bernard lets his words trail away because everyone in town knows what happens next, Sam shows up dead is what happens and Dean's heart is ripped apart inside at the thought and he glances up, watching Norm's face-

Sees the flicker of something in those eyes and the hairs on the back of his neck rise up-

Start to tingle and pick-

"You know anything about my brother, Norm?"

"Me? No, I don't know anything."

"Yeah? Where you been tonight?"

"I was, uh, at the library for a while, researching franchises…I want to expand our business maybe to the next couple of towns over and then I, um, went out for dinner-"

"At the diner in town?"

"No, I drove over to Melvorne to see about possible locations for the new business and I had dinner over there-"

Dean doesn't know why but his back is stiffening up, muscles tense and ready and he nods, "Any witnesses? What's the restaurant's name where you ate?"

Norm flushes, "I don't remember. It was a diner but I don't recall the name, some guy, like Fred or Frank but I really…listen, I didn't know I had to take notes on where I was eating or who may have saw me there…"

Bernard feels Dean's tenseness next to him and he's quick to sooth, "You don't, Norm…we're just asking because Dean's desperate here…he wants to save his brother from being killed…you must understand that, right?"

The tall man nods, "Of course, I do! You must be scared to death…and freaked out…especially knowing how your brother really feels about you-"

Dean's eyes narrow, "What? What do you mean by that? What do you know about how Sam really feels?"

Norm's eyes flicker again and it's like a mask falls into place, "Well, I remember what Bernard said about him in the shop, that he wanted to be with you like a boyfriend and not a brother…that's all I meant."

Dean doesn't like it, it feels wrong in his gut but the guy's saying all the right things and it does make sense, he was in the shop when Bernard dropped his little gossip item-

But there's something about him, the far-away eyes, the smile that touches his mouth for no reason at all, like he's keeping a secret that no one can ever find out about and Dean follows his gut, follows his instinct and reaches out-

Grabs Norm by the collar and slams him back, into the door of the house and leans in, scowling fierce and baring teeth, "Yeah? Let me ask you…what do you think if I told you I wanted to fuck Sam right back? That I wanted to feel his cock in my ass, pounding into me hard and that I never wanted him to stop, not until I was shooting my wad all over both of us-"

He sees it happen, the mask twitches and slips, falls and slides right off and Norm's face is screwed up, angry and pinched, like he's just tasted something nasty-

And he's spitting the words into Dean's face, "You sick fuck! Wanting to be with a man is bad enough but wanting to fuck your own _brother,_ it's a sin, an abomination and you should beg for God's forgiveness, for his punishing rod to smite you, to cleanse you of this-"

And Norm is shoving him away, clawing at Dean's hands on his shirt, digging in with sharp nails and drawing long scratches down the backs of Dean's hands and arms, drawing up beads of blood, making him cry out with pain-

"Ow, you son of a bitch!" And Dean starts to pull back, only to have Norm grab his arm tight, reach into his pocket and pull out something that Dean can't quite see-

A flash of sliver, a glint of glass and the sting in his arm-

What the fuck was that?

The mist comes on fast, on the periphery, just in his line of sight and he's blinking at the man in front of him, hearing the words but they're disjointed, foggy and slow-

Sounds like he's on slow speed on a tape machine-

Norm's voice is deep and every word takes forever to drop from his mouth, "You're an atrocity, child! A sin against God and a sin against man! You should be put out of your misery, struck down, crucified for your sick mind and you need to get down on your knees right now, pray for His forgiveness and plead for absolution!"

And Norm is holding up the needle in gleeful triumph, smiling maniacally into Dean's face, "I can help you find salvation! You need to confess your sins and then I will help you cleanse yourself, make you pure of heart again and you will have a place in the kingdom of heaven-"

The swoon of dizziness clouds over Dean's vision and he tries to shake it off, squeezes his eyes shut tight to bring back his focus, stop the swirl of sights around him-

What the fuck was in that needle?

And he hears Norm muttering under his breath, almost singing-

Something familiar, that makes the rip in Dean's stomach sink deep, and he just wants to puke his guts out with the sound of it-

What the hell is he singing?

_Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord._

And with a snap of knowledge, Dean identifies it-

_He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored,_

Hell, the world is tilting around on its axis, sliding into a black hole, and Dean puts out a hand to steady himself but catches at the air, crap, so loopy, he can't see straight-

_He has loosed the fateful lightening of His terrible swift sword_

He's down on his knees, no idea of how he got there but Norm is standing over him, singing loudly now and pressing a hand to Dean's forehead-

And Dean sees movement behind Norm, sees the blur, the flash of pink before he's falling forward, landing hard and he's out for the count, down and sliding away fast-

_His truth is marching on._

Into darkness and despair, can't save Sam, can't save himself-

#

"Dean!" Someone's hitting his face, sharp slaps that make him wince in pain, make him scowl into the light shining in his eyes and he's shoving the hands away, just want to sleep, god damn it.

The hands are back, relentless, smacking on his flesh, pulling him back to consciousness, back to bright and hard and sharp and fuck-

He blinks his eyes, can't open them to save his life, growls out the words, "Leave me the fuck alone, Sam!"

"Come on, sweetie…rise and shine!" And who the hell's voice is that?

He peers up into the face hovering over him, it's someone with moussed up hair and eyeliner, the voice familiar but he can't place it, it hovers just outside of his memory-

The glimmer of satin shines in the street light, a flash of jewelry glints in his eyes and those fucking hands are back, whacking at both cheek bones, first one side then the other and there-

His brain kicks in and he remembers…

_Bernard. _

And then right on the heels of that-

Sam!

He sits up fast, making the other man jump back quick and the voice is in his ears, "Dean, you-you with me?"

"What the hell?" Dean's groaning, his head pounding to beat the fucking band, his forehead squeezed so tight it's stopping coherent thought and he puts up a hand to stop his skull from splitting in two, "Oh, my fucking head-"

"Yeah, he got about a syringe-full of whatever he had into you before I could stop him-sorry."

"Where-where is he?"

Bernard grins at him, "Trussed up in the trunk of your car. I caught him from behind with a rock while he was busy with you-didn't know quite what to do with him after that but I knew you'd want him alive so we could find out where Sam is so I found some rope in your car and-"

Bernard is helping him up, hauling him to his feet and holding on while Dean gets his balance and pulling him towards the car where the bound and gagged Norm screams at them, yanks on his ropes and rolls around, trying to get free-

Dean feels the grin tugging at his mouth and reaches out, slapping Bernard on the shoulder, "Dude! For a freaking flaming gay dude, you one tough bastard, you know that?"

Bernard laughs, "Thanks, man. Coming from you, I'll take that as a compliment!"

And Dean reaches down, hauls Norm up and out, "I knew it, Sammy - wasn't anything supernatural at all, just a goddamn religious freak who thinks he's on a mission from God…Jesus, people are fucking crazy, right? Guess I should be glad it wasn't a demon-but I'd sure love to fucking gank something right about now-"

#

Norm won't talk.

He glares at them both, keeping his lips clamped shut, a secret smile playing there, like he holds all the cards-

Knows they can't kill him because then they'll never find Sam.

Dean threatens, cajoles, screams and looms over Norm menacingly but it's not working, the asshole won't fucking talk, and Dean's about ready to rip his fucking head off-

He's stopped, mid-punch by Bernard's hand blocking him and he whips his head back around in surprise, catching the other man's eyes, tensing because what if Bernard's flipping sides, helping Norm out suddenly-

What if he's been in on this with the crazy dude the whole time?

But no, Bernard only leans in close, whispers into Dean's ear, "Let me try something, sweetie-"

And he's stepping in front of Dean, facing Norm head on and he slides a hand into his pocket, making sure Norm's eyes are on him and he holds up the foil-wrapped packet, the moonlight glinting on it-

Norm's face turns sheet-white as he recognizes the condom and he stutters on the words, "What-what the hell are you gonna do with that?"

Bernard grabs Norm's arm, yanks him forward and spins him around, shoves him down on the hood of the Impala, "Well, I thought I'd fuck you, right here, right now, turn you gay like me, show you how much you're missing out on just screwing one side of the fence-"

And Dean can't believe it because Norm believes him, honestly fucking thinks that getting screwed in the ass turns someone gay if that isn't the most pathetic thing in the fucking world-

"You-you wouldn't! Bernard, you fucker, keep your hands offa me!"

But Bernard is reaching around, unbuttoning Norm's pants and starting to yank them down and Dean can see from the look on his face, he's prepared to see it through, he'll do this to Norm, for Sam and Dean-

Damn it, he's the coolest gay dude Dean's ever met-

As soon as the cool air hits Norm's ass, he's screaming out Sam's location, his coordinates, his longitude and latitude and any other directions he can think of, shying his ass away and lunging across the hood, rolling down on the ground and huffing there, staring up at Bernard, fear pulsing through him, like he's scared to catch something-

"Don't, please, don't touch me!"

Bernard leans in even as Norm is flinching back, tugs up the other man's pants back up and buttons him, steps back, turns to smile triumphantly at Dean and nods, "I'll call the sheriff in a few minutes. I'm gonna take a walk so you can tell Norm just how much you love what he did to your brother."

And he's walking away fast, leaving Dean alone with Norm.

He turns, staring down at the man still huddled on the ground and the rage floods through him, this fucking asshole hurt _his_ Sammy-

The red crowds into his mind, roars in his ears and he barely remembers lumbering in, grabbing Norm up with one hand and swinging in with the other, the sharp cracks of flesh on flesh, his knuckles splitting and burning-

He keeps going until Bernard is there, pulling him off and he's panting harsh, deep sobs working through his chest, trembling with the fury still inside him, not done yet, needs to pound on the man more, harder-

"Dean, that's enough, shit, you're gonna kill him-"

And he's pushed back, stands there with fists clenched tight to his thighs, shoulders hunched around his ears, glaring his hate at the man on the ground as Bernard stands guard over the unconscious Norm, so Dean can't finish the job.

When the sheriff shows up, he takes one look and raises an eyebrow at the two men standing there but doesn't say a word, just motions to the deputy who carts Norm away, stuffs him in the car and calls for a medic to meet them at the station-.

The sheriff leads in his car, Dean and Bernard following in the Impala and they're hightailing over to the caverns on the outskirts of town-

So many of them, it's gonna be fucking impossible to find Sammy in here and Dean chafes at the helplessness that rolls over him in waves, fucking gonna need at least twenty people to search these caves-

Bernard grips his shoulder and points, "Look."

The headlights coming fast, shit, must be ten or fifteen cars, all headed in this direction, pulling up nearby and people are piling out, surrounding them-

Townspeople all, come to help, to find the last victim alive, unharmed-

Flashlights are clicked on, paths divided and Dean doesn't even know where to begin to thank them-

Fred Griffen shakes his head, brushes off Dean's gratitude and simply says, "Let's go find your brother, man."

Four hours later, the walkie-talkie squawks in the sheriff's hand, "Got him."

When Dean gets to him, Sam's head and face are still caked with blood, his skull split open from hitting the door face first, he's covered in his own piss and he's never looked more beautiful-

He's in the chair, facing the camera, IV line still in place because Sam's huge and Norm needed control, needed to be able to keep Sam complacent-

And he's being untied, looking around at all the people bewildered, drugs still mucking up his brain and his eyes land on Dean's-

The sadness and shame in Sam's eyes overwhelm him and Dean's shaking his head, telling him no, not to feel that way-

He hears Bernard's voice, "Dean's here." and the bodies in front of him part like the Red Sea, laying a clear path to Sam-

The first thing Dean does is rip that fucking needle out of his arm and bandage his gaping wound, then he grabs Sam up and hugs tight, closing his eyes in gratitude, and the sob rises up, rips out of his throat and he's such a stupid baby, freaking crying into Sam's neck as he holds him close, wraps his arms around so fierce. He can't stop blubbering as he buries his face in Sam's broad shoulder because he's _al__ive_, body warm with his beating heart and Dean has him back, whole, intact and the fucking asshole killer is caught-

He vaguely hears the cheers of onlookers as he helps Sam up, hauling a hand around his shoulder and letting his brother lean, full weight on him-

And Sam's gonna be ok, they're both gonna be ok-

#

#


	4. Chapter 4

#

#

The air is still and heavy in the room, hot as hell and the sweat is rolling down his back, clinging to his upper lip but he won't crack a window, won't let in a breath of fresh because he needs to keep Sammy warm, safe, and in here, he can protect him, keep everything bad in the world away-

He stands guard over his brother fiercely, watching Sammy sleep-

Local doc had checked him out, right after they found him and told Dean sleep was the best thing to get the drugs worked out of Sam's system, to help him heal-

Dean's gaze plays softly over his brother's sweet face, so fucking grateful for this, he'd been so scared Sam was lost and now to have him here, alive and safe-

It's a gift, is what it is-

But the anger surges through, snaps in his gut as he watches over Sam because his brother may be alive and safe, but he's not _unharmed_, not by a long shot-

No, he's restless, skin twitching as he dreams, eyes rolling wild under closed lids, knuckles fisted tight in the blanket, holding on for dear life and he's mumbling in his sleep, the words soft, too low to hear but the tone is pleading, begging-

Dean gets up and moves closer, leans near Sam's mouth-

It's his name Sam's gasping out through parched lips, _please, Dean, God, help me, Dean, please _as he jerks and twists under the blankets, body thrashing as the nightmares take him over and Dean knows in Sam's dreams, he's back there, in the caverns, scared to all hell and facing down death-

And Dean does what he can, petting the dark hair, running a gentle hand through the thickness of it, murmuring softly to his brother, nonsense words, just to soothe-

The sound of his voice calms Sam like no touch can and he quiets for a few peaceful moments before he's back, muttering rough, legs restless under the blankets, can't stay still in his own skin-

And it makes Dean crazy that he can't help, can't take this pain away from his brother, just has to sit by and watch him sweat through the nightmares, jerking awake, eyes wild with the drugs coursing through his system, unaware of this time, this place-

That goddamn fucking asshole almost killed his brother pumping him full of that shit-

Nothing he can do except wait and watch, let the drugs run their course, soothe Sammy's forehead with a cool cloth when he's thrashing, whisper words of comfort to calm him, hold him when he's lost in the fear in his own mind-

And Dean can't let himself even think about the _other_, the insatiable want that even now streams through his body, flushing his face with the shame of it and hardening his cock with dark hungry thoughts of _after_, of _later_, when Sammy wakes the hell up and they get this shit out into the open-

Wishes he didn't want Sam so _much_-

#

He almost lost it when he'd got Sammy back to the room-

His brother was filthy, covered in blood, dirt and piss and he couldn't just leave him like that, could he? Had to take care of Sammy, like always, couldn't let his feelings get in the way of that-

But damn, it had been so _hard_ to stay cold, detached, separated-

He'd stripped Sam down, tossing the clothes in the dumpster outside because they smelled of piss and worse, stunk to high freaking heaven and he'd manhandled Sam into the shower, pushing him back and slumping him against the tiles, barely conscious, head lolling back, eyes rolling, trying to focus-

He'd tossed his own clothes aside, making sure to keep his underwear on because he couldn't be naked in the shower with Sam, just _couldn't_, not when his brother's bare skin was everywhere he looked and he found himself wishing for once that Sam wasn't so goddamn huge-

His eyes had wandered over Sam's flesh before he could stop it, his gaze dragging downward and for a moment, he was caught, wide-eyed and staring because Sam was freaking _hung_, the length of dick heavy between his sprawled legs and Dean's mouth suddenly had too much spit, his jaw loose and unhinged, and he was trying desperately to ignore the tingling spreading across the back of his neck, shooting down all the way to his balls-

He'd jerked his eyes away, searching the tiles behind Sam's head, so fucking dizzy, all the blood rushing to his head and cock simultaneously, gasping in huge pulls of air, trying to calm himself down because he couldn't look _there_, not again, not and keep his sanity, keep his strength-

Thinking of anything at all to keep his mind off Sam's luscious body, dead kittens, saggy old lady tits, Bernard's freaking hair…

When he'd gotten control, holding himself tightly inside, he'd managed to scrub Sam's hair through until it was squeaky clean, getting all the blood and gore out of it, before gently working at the long gash on his brother's forehead with a washcloth, cleansing thoroughly, too late to stitch the damn thing because it could get infected, nope, gonna just have to tape it and hope like hell the skin held-

And he'd put it off as long as possible, couldn't hitch away from it any longer-

Took a deep breath, soaped up the cloth and pushed it out of his mind, away from him, couldn't let himself think about Sam's body, _his gorgeous rock hard body_, while he was doing this or he'd lose it and do what he's been wanting to for years, take that sweet cock in his mouth and suck Sam down, taste every inch of silky skin and Christ, how the hell is he supposed to get through this?

He'd held his breath, moving the soapy cloth over Sam's beautiful chest, the graceful slope of neck, the firm biceps, bulging even now, at rest, so stunning, Dean couldn't even comprehend it-

Over the toned, sculpted lines cut into Sam's abdomen, the flat belly, the jutting hip bones, pointing, leading his gaze down below-

And he'd heard himself whimper, the soft sound cutting low out of his throat as he'd washed Sam's cock because it _stirred_, moved under his touch, the flesh silk soft and underneath, pulsing hard with blood and _Jesus Christ_, it was too much for Dean, he couldn't handle it, too much to ask and he just couldn't, ok?

Swiped at the tears welling in his eyes, surprising him, biting at his lower lip hard enough to draw blood and forced himself, _had_ to do it, because Sam pissed himself, and he couldn't leave his brother like that, dirty, soiled-

So he sucked in a calming breath and bitten back the sob that wanted to rip out his throat, _just do the damn job_, soaped up Sam's length good, working the lather over the satiny skin, scrubbing through the kinky hair at the base and washing his balls, his thighs, hesitant fingers sliding down into the crack of his ass and gently cleaning there.

And he'd been lightheaded, holding his breath, barely swallowing and he'd rinsed Sam off fast, turning away, whooping in great gulps of air, his face burning with humiliation because he was such a sick fuck for wanting his baby brother like this, perverted, depraved, an abomination and he can't help it or fix it and damn!

Hoping like hell Sammy still felt the same as he'd confessed on tape because he couldn't go back now, had let himself hope, dream, think about how life _could_ be for them-

And the stupid helpless tears just wouldn't stop, kept pooling in his eyes, stinging them, blurring his vision and stuffing his nose, goddamn hands shaking so bad he could barely get them to work.

Christ, he wanted Sam so _bad_-

So he'd done the only thing he could, stopped for a moment and let himself break, collapsed down next to Sammy, back against the tiles and reaching out, pulling his brother in, wrapping an arm around the limp body and hugging tight, tears rolling helplessly down his face, being washed away in the hot spray of the shower.

He'd let himself be weak for a few moments because he couldn't stand to be in his own skin, the need burning into him, deep in his gut and he had to finish, do his job and then he could deal with the freaking _want_ rearing up inside his chest, clutching tight at his heart, at his throat-

Filling his brain with everything he ever wanted to do to Sam, every touch, every kiss and lick he's aching to lay on the sweet skin, on the unconscious form laying there, his for the taking-

He'd wiped his eyes, sucking in a deep breath and gritting his teeth, going back to the task at hand, finishes fast, washing Sam's legs and feet, pulling him forward to scrub his back and rinsing quickly, shutting off the water and hefting Sam up, _shit, __he's heavy_, holding him, slumping him on the toilet so Dean could towel him off, rub his skin pink-

He'd hauled Sam to bed after that, laying him down in clean sheets, keeping the windows closed, wanting his brother warm, comfortable-

And he'd staggered over to the chair, sweat slicking down his back, shaking like crazy from holding himself so tight-

Has to be strong, has to wait until Sam's better, until they talk-

Stayed hunched down in his chair, fingers gripping the arm rests like a vise, sweating because it was so hot in the room, watching over Sam as he slept, as he'd done hundreds of nights before, doing his job, taking care of his baby brother-

And hoped like hell Sam still wanted him when he finally woke up.

#

He gets Sam up every few hours, hauling him to the bathroom, staggering under his weight, holding and aiming Sam's dick into the toilet 'cause he's not able, can barely stand, and Dean needs to help him piss, and _seriously? Jesus Christ, really? _

He coaxes small sips of water past the dry, bitten lips before rolling his brother back under the covers-

The sight of Sam's muscles makes Dean's mouth water, the length of him under the blankets stirs Dean's imagination into high gear, the whisper of sheets against skin, the _smell_ of his brother, breath sleep-cotton, a hint of musky sweat and the sight of Sammy's hair curled damply around his neck-

Speaks to Dean's soul, the one lodged in the deep recesses of his balls, and he pushes down against the sudden hardness between his legs, groans with the hot lust pouring through him and wishes to _Christ _he could take his eyes off Sam for one fucking minute-

Stares at the rock hard chest that's barely covered, the blanket laying just under the stiff nipples that are calling him, begging him to lean in and take just one taste-

God, he knows they'll taste like _his_ Sammy, like he remembers, sweet and clean, sunshine and love, and there isn't anything better, and he leans forward, almost catching one hard nub in his mouth before he remembers, yanks back on himself-

Wonders if Sam likes his nipples sucked, bitten…

Rubs a shaking hand across his face, trying to hold himself back because the feral part of him rears up, hungry and tired of freaking waiting, his cock twitching even now at the thought of the naked body he'd just washed, just aroused…

Because Sam's dick had been hard when he'd bedded him down, bumping against Dean's forearm and he'd stopped, sucked in a wheezing breath and held on tight to his self control because it's pretty much flown out the goddamn window-

Just wants to take Sam now, right the fuck now, wants to wake his brother up with sweet kisses, all over his body, tasting him everywhere, with his tongue, with his mouth-

The hunger of it is burning his gut and he fights against it, tightens his fists into clenched balls against his thighs and steels himself, _not gonna move off this chair, gonna stay here until Sammy wakes up-_

#

It's late afternoon the second day that Sammy rouses, slept for sixteen hours straight and he's suddenly jerking upright with a yell, immersed in yet another nightmare, both hands twisted and bunched in the sheets, his eyes huge, stark terror flashing before he clears, sees Dean, recognizes him and he falls back, panting, relief flaring out of those soft eyes when Sam realizes he's safe, protected-

Makes Dean feel so strong, so brave, like he's king of the world when Sammy looks at him like that-

It fills him, completes him in ways he can't give a voice to, deep in his core, where his confidence is shaken, his lust for his brother so raw, so frightening-

Sam's eyes are clear, drug free and aware, darting to meet Dean's gaze and flying away, like he can't face Dean, like he's ashamed, his shoulders hunched with it, and he hangs his head, his bangs falling forward, hiding himself-

And Dean feels a surge of anger, at the asshole Norm who brought his brother here, to this place, where he's so humiliated; he can't even look at Dean-

"Sammy-" He starts, his voice croaking from disuse, ready to dive in with both feet, bring all the shit out into the open but the look on Sam's face, the utter sadness and fear there, has Dean pulling back the reins, taking in a deep breath and saying simply, "How you feeling?"

"I-" Sam sits up quick, eyes catching his again before sliding away and Sam bites at his lower lip, tension in every bone, every muscle, hell, he's trembling with it and he's blinking fast, the glint of tears catching the dim bedside light, his voice a wavering thin reed of pain as he gestures mindlessly into the air between them, unable to say a word-

_Don't cry, Sammy, please don't cry-_

_#_

Safe, he's safe and Dean's _here_, real, not just a dream, a frantic hope, and Sam hurriedly fists at his eyes so Dean won't see the sudden tears that spring there at the sight of his big brother, his protector, his love-

God, he loves Dean so freaking much and he knew Dean would find him, would save him, just knew it and even though there's all this shit between them now, Dean's still his big brother, still taking care of him.

He sniffles back the tears, has to control himself, has to deal with this because he's away from that freaking crazy dude, and the damn drugs aren't pumping through his veins, making him swoon in his skin and he's better, awake, aware.

But the awareness is slow, fog covered and it's only when he flexes his muscles against the sheets, his flesh warm under the blankets that he takes inventory, realizes he's naked, bare ass like the day he was born and where the hell are his clothes? He's clean, too, scrubbed pink, no blood anywhere and he doesn't smell of his own piss like he did before.

His eyes fly to Dean's, voices the only question zinging through his brain right now, "Did you-did you wash me?" And his voice is wounded, raw and biting at his throat and he coughs at the itch of it, shit, he's so thirsty.

Dean moves forward, jerking quick, like he's nervous, uncertain, sitting down on the edge of the bed and picking up the glass on the side table, pressing the straw to Sam's lips, nodding with his head that Sam should drink.

It's water, pure and sweet and he's never tasted anything better in his whole life, it soothes the dry scratch when he swallows and he keeps sucking it down, so good…

Dean pulls at the straw, "Take small sips, ok? Don't want you puking it all back up."

And Sam nods, leans back and swallows hard, scared to ask the question again, just stares at Dean, waiting.

Dean straightens the blankets, tucking it around him chastely, like he needs to keep his hands busy, "Yeah, you frigging stank when we found you so I cleaned you up, best I could, thought it'd help you rest better."

Sam reaches out, catches and stills his brother's hand, holding on tight, "Thanks, man. Thanks for…God, for everything, for not giving up, for saving me from that crazy ass jerk, for…I knew you'd find me, Dean."

Dean gives him a small smile, "You know it, Sammy, wasn't gonna quit until I did. Didn't do it alone, man, once we knew where you were, a bunch of people from town all came to help search. Bernard was awesome, helped me catch Norm, he's-" And Dean shakes his head, grin growing wider, "He's definitely changed my views on gay dudes."

He sees the look of pain cross Dean's face, "But Bernard was the one that told that asshole about you, about how you felt-"

Dean trails off, unable to complete the sentence but they both know. It hangs between them like a stick of dynamite, ready to explode at a moment's notice and fly sparks at them, burn them with the truth of it-

Sam drops his eyes, looking everywhere but at Dean, can't barely breathe, he's so fucking scared, doesn't want Dean to hate him, doesn't want to see the disgust, the pity on his brother's face-, "Dean, I'm-I'm so sorry."

"Sammy." Dean pulls in a breath, shakes his head firmly, "You listen to me. You got nothing, _nothing_ to apologize for. You didn't do anything wrong and just because an asshole Bible thumper decides to take a ride on the crazy curve and fly off the deep end doesn't mean you did. You just…just don't, ok?"

"But, Dean, it was my fault-"

"Sam, it's _not_ your fault. Stop it."

Dean's voice is his most commanding, his 'you better not argue with me' tone and Sam tries to stop, he really does but he _has_ to-

"It _was_ my fault and I need you to know…Shit, Dean, I'm so fucked up and I'm so goddamn sorry-"

"SAM!" Dean's voice whip-cracks into the air, making Sam jump and cringe back into the headboard against the sound and he's trembling scared suddenly, sure he pushed Dean to the breaking point, sure Dean's gonna tell him to leave as soon as he's better because he's a sick, perverted piece of trash who needs serious therapy

Silence fills the room, fills his brain.

Dean takes a deep calming breath, his voice low, urging, "Sammy, you-listen, it doesn't matter what's going on inside of you or how fucked up you think you are, nobody has the goddamn right to kidnap you, pump you full of drugs and make you spill your guts! I mean, how are you figuring any of that is your fault? Norm is a sick, twisted pervert who thought he had a frigging pipeline to God's ear and I hope they fry his ass for everything he's done, to you and all the other people he's hurt."

Dean stands up, moves to the head of the bed and Sam thinks he's going away, leaving him but then-

Sam feels a hand pet his hair and Dean's voice above him, soft and uncertain, "Are-are you hungry?"

Pretty much the last thing he expected Dean to say, thought he'd be more concerned with getting Sam away from him as soon as possible but Dean waits, quiet, hand still caressing and Sam tenses, doesn't know what this touch means-

He can't seem to swallow right over the lump that suddenly lodged in his throat, his skin is aware and tingling, every nerve focused and concentrated on Dean's hand that's even now stroking through, dragging on his scalp and God, he can turn Sam steamy with just a fucking _touch._

And breathing's pretty much a lost cause, couldn't pull in a huff of air right now to save his life and he's fighting himself, struggling with all his might not to let his hand climb up and grab Dean's, bring those fingers to his mouth to kiss, to taste…

Needs Dean to get away from him now, right now or he's gonna start begging his big brother to touch him everywhere, all over his flushed, aching skin.

He almost whimpers out the words, "I'd-I'd love something to eat, actually."

He's never been less hungry in his life, well, for food, that is, but he needs space and a chance to breathe.

When Dean drops his hand away, he falls back onto the pillow, boneless and weak, trembling in his skin-

_What the hell, Dean? What the hell?_

_#_

Sam manages to get himself dressed, legs still shaky and he's sitting at the small table in their room, half-heartedly chewing on a turkey sandwich and sipping orange juice while Dean leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest, watching him with hooded eyes-

He shoots glances at Dean every few seconds, meeting those green eyes and then skittering away, waiting for the ax to fall, for Dean to say _something_.

Finally, Dean mutters, "Norm was an epileptic, that's how he got his hands on the drugs he used and two months ago, according to his wife, he got a letter saying his gay son had been killed by three of his classmates in a hate crime. Bernard's pretty sure he never even knew his son was gay so that must have been what sent old Norm off the deep end."

Sam nods, doesn't really matter but he's just glad Dean's talking, filling the tense space between them.

Dean falls silent again and the room pulses, air crackling between them and damn, it's thick and heavy, pressing down on Sam's chest, making it hard to pull in a breath.

And then-

"How much do you remember, Sammy?"

The question is soft, quiet but it snaps inside him like a gunshot, making him shake with dread, so bad his hands can barely hold onto the sandwich because shit, this is it-

He could deny right here, swear he didn't remember a thing and Dean would go along, accept the lie as truth, nod and they'd live life as before, not mentioning it again, filing it away and ignoring like it never happened-

Oh, yeah, Sam knew his brother. Denial was the Winchester way.

But the look in Dean's eyes, something's flickering there, something he can't read.

It's dark and glinting, like he's struggling with something, like he's warring with himself-

And he's watching Sam so closely, eyes searching his face, and he can't hide, can't deny this any longer, and maybe, just maybe, if he admits it without being drugged, without a crazed killer forcing his hand, maybe something good can come out of it and Sam can find some shred of dignity left.

He sucks in a cleansing breath, meeting Dean's eyes full on and blurts it out, stark and raw, "Everything, Dean. I remember everything I said…I _meant_ everything I said."

And there it is between them, festering like a giant sore, spilling out all over the ground and Dean jerks back like Sam just slapped him.

Sam puts down his food, doesn't even try to pretend he's hungry anymore, waiting for his brother to explode, to let him have it-

To tell him that Dean is disgusted and freaked out by his confession, that they have to go their separate ways because he can't stay here, with Sam, knowing how Sam feels and that Sam is a sick, pervert who has no business feeling that way about his brother.

The look on Dean's face, twisted and scared, pulls at Sam's heart and he can barely keep looking, can barely take in the damage he just struck Dean with.

He's broken them this time for good, did something that all the other crap, fighting with his Dad, leaving Dean for Stanford, hadn't been able do – cleaved them apart and left them divided, alone.

It's pretty damn obvious that Dean doesn't feel the same way, because he's pulled so tight inside himself, Sam can almost _feel_ him vibrating across the air as he mutters a broken, "Sammy…" before jumping up, rubbing a trembling hand across his mouth and pacing the floor between them.

And Sam yanks his eyes away, staring at the cigarette burns in the table top, sinking down into the bleak, dark pit of despair, and God, feels so dirty, so fucking filthy, he'll never be clean, never be able to face Dean again-

His shoulders are hunched around his ears and his fingers grip the edges of the table so hard, they're blanched white and he's shaking, shit, shaking so bad and he's got to get out of here, right now!

With a screech of chair legs across the floor, he shoves back and is moving, running, out the door before Dean can catch him and Dean's hollering after him but he can't stop, can't go back because he can't stand to see the hate, the loathing in Dean's eyes when he looks at him-

#

Damn it, the stupid kid! Didn't even give him a chance to say a word before he's running away and where the hell is he going anyway?

Shit, he knew he'd fuck it up! He'd just spent the last two days trying to work up the courage to tell Sam he feels the same way and then when it came right down to it, when the time came to fess up and tell the truth, he'd blown it!

Couldn't get out the goddamn words, couldn't get them past his lips, didn't even know where to start because once he does this, they can't go back, it'll never be the same between them and God, he wants this so bad but he's scared, so damn scared.

What if he screws it up and ends up hurting Sam? Shit, what if, after he admits his own feelings, Sam decides he doesn't want Dean anymore, then where will he be, on his knees, exposed and wide open and he doesn't know if he has that kind of courage.

He pounds a fist on the table and fuck, he should've just said it! He should have_ told_ Sam, spit it out instead of stupidly trekking a path around the floor, getting himself all jittery and nervous-

And now-

Now, he'd messed it up because yeah, he was totally in love with his brother but _talking_ about it, _saying_ the words, that was the bitch and he'd stuttered like a freaking love-sick fool and not gotten out any of it and now Sam was gone.

Well, he's just gonna have to go hunt him down and bring him back with or without Sam's consent, because tonight Dean is gonna have some of that sweetness, claim it for his own and make Sam his-

He licks his lips in anticipation, feeling the thrill in his belly at what tonight's gonna bring and he's grabbing up keys, yanking at the door knob and on the road before he can talk himself out of it.

Yeah, Sammy, tonight, you're mine.

#

He's already a mile down, stumbling over gravel shoulder, hands shoved deep into pockets and he hears the familiar growl of the Impala, turns and spots the car behind him. The jolt of his heart has him turning, running off road and into the trees, knowing he can get lost in there.

The slam of door behind him spurs him on and Dean's "Sammy!" makes him almost sob-

God, he just wants to die right now, die and be put out of this misery because he can't face Dean, can't deal with this, his heart freaking ripping to shreds because Dean doesn't want him, won't ever want him and it's too much-

Dean should've just let that asshole kill him, at least then his pain would be over.

He hears the thudding of boots behind him and picks up the pace, streaking through the forest as fast as he can, glancing back and seeing Dean close on his heels and-

Shit, shit! Dean's gaining on him-

He jumps over moss-covered rocks, clears a stump, crashes through brush and he's gonna make it, knows he is, just gotta get to that line of trees and then he can hide-

Something slams into him from behind and the ground is rushing up to meet him, twigs and sticks scraping and cutting into him as he hits hard, wind knocked right out of his lungs-

Gasping from the dead weight holding him in place-

A grip of iron lands on his shoulder, yanks him over and Dean's green eyes are staring into his, breath panting on his face and he closes his eyes, turns his face away, won't look at Dean, too ashamed, too fucking humiliated-

"Sammy, look at me."

He grits his teeth, squeezes his eyes tight and shakes his head, growling out hoarsely, "No!"

"Sammy, come on, open up-" A firm hand under his chin pulls him back around and he can feel Dean's warm breath on his face, can _smell_ it, so sweet, just like Sam remembers him tasting and it's making him dizzy-

And he shakes his head against it, can't look, wants to see Dean's beautiful face so bad but he's scared, so goddamn scared at what he knows he's gonna see in his brother's eyes, Dean's gonna hate him, pity him or worse, be disgusted by him and probably not gonna ever want to lay eyes on him again-

And _holy shit_, he_ is_ a sick fuck if all he can think about at a time like this is how Dean's mouth would feel on his-

"Goddamn it, Sam-" Dean's voice is exasperated, frustrated and something warm presses against his mouth, soft and gentle, a spark of lightening zings through his head at the touch and Sam jerks back, away, eyes snapping open in shock and Dean's there, right there, looking down at his lips with such a look of love it takes his breath away.

"Heh, made you look." Dean flicks his eyes up, catches Sam's as a smirk plays across his lips.

"Dean? What are you-? Did-did you just _kiss_ me?" his voice is breathless, a hopeful whisper and he sees something flicker in Dean's eyes, something dark and hungry-

And Dean nods, his voice rough and low "Fuck, yeah-"

His brother's eyes trail over his face, searching him, the hot gaze wandering down to his mouth and freezing there, Dean licking his lips before tilting his head, dipping back in-

And the sweet taste covers his mouth again, a hot spark flaring up inside him so fast, so huge, he'd be gasping with it if he could get a freaking breath in but Dean's mouth is there, holding him in place, stealing away every pant of air between them.

Dean's lips are pressing in, warm and gentle, almost tentative, like he's something precious, a treasure that could be snatched away if Dean goes too fast and it's a sweet kiss, a tender caress and God, it feels incredible, just like Sam knew it would.

Sam's mouth responds instantly, eagerly, before his brain kicks in, letting Dean push him open, deepen the kiss and when the wet tongue slides in, curls around his own, he jerks back in surprise, because it's hot sparks, picking and zinging through his brain, shooting up his back and down into his balls, the sizzle of fire shooting through has him hanging onto Dean's shoulders for dear life, nerves steaming in his skin-

So freakingturned on, so fast, can't believe how easy Dean gets to him.

God, so much better than he remembers.

Dean growls low in his throat and dives in deeper, tangling his tongue with Sam's, swirling around and over, searching and learning, not letting Sam pull away or get a breath, a hand sliding around his neck, finding it's way into Sam's hair, threads through and grips tight.

He's not going anywhere until Dean lets him.

_Jesus, it's better than he ever imagined_-

The flavor of Dean is sweet honey in his mouth, the best taste in the whole damn world and Sam wants more, needs more.

An ugly thought slithers through and he tries to turn away from it but it's too late, once he's given it access, it whispers and mutters at him, uneasy and unsure, making him pull back hard to break the kiss and shove Dean roughly away.

"S-Sam? What's-what's wrong?" Dean stares down at him, confusion and fear slashing across his face-

His mouth feels swollen, abused and he licks at his lips, the words cutting his throat because he's pretty sure Dean's just fucking with him- "Dean, just- Jesus Christ, just wait a fucking second here. Look, man, you-you don't have to _do_ this, ok? I mean, you don't have to _pretend_ with me, just to make me feel better."

"Pretend?"

Sam nods, eyes flicking to Dean's and away, because he doesn't want to see the truth, the pity, in Dean's face, "Yeah, pretend. I _know_ you, Dean, and I know you don't feel the same way I do and you don't have to act like you do! Don't-don't patronize me, ok? It's ok, Dean, really it is and I get it, I get what you're doing so just…don't."

Dean's eyebrows come together in a scowl, eyes glittering fierce, growling out through gritted teeth, "What the hell do you _get_, Sam? I'm not pretending anything."

Sam is sarcastic, voice gruff because he's angry, so freaking angry because Dean's protecting him still, can't possibly feel _this_ for him and he doesn't want that from Dean, would rather have anger than goddamn pity, "Oh, yeah, sure, like, all of a sudden you just decide, after all of these years, that you have the hots for me and want to be with me? Come _on_, Dean…I know what's going on. You're trying to stop me from feeling bad about-about that asshole forcing me to talk, to tell, making me say all that shit out loud and I _get_ it, I do. You're still taking care of me just like you always have but this-this right here can't happen, Dean because you don't feel it and I don't want half-ass from you or lies, just can't-"

"Just stop, Sam, ok? Just stop it-" Dean's voice cuts off his words, harsh, pissed off as all hell and he's pretty sure Dean's ready to slug him into next week-

"Dean, just- " He pulls in a breath and shoves at Dean's chest, bucks his hips, trying to roll away, wanting Dean the fuck _off_- "Just don't play games with me, just don't, ok? Because I really can't deal with that right now, not on top of-"

But Dean won't get off, firms his jaw, green eyes glittering down stubbornly as he lets his weight relax down, laying heavier on Sam's body, spreading his legs slightly and surrounding Sam's thighs with his own, holding him in place.

And Sam huffs in a painful breath because Dean's just staring down at him, won't move and he gives another annoyed shove at the rock hard chest pinning him to the ground, a painful sob working out of his throat as tears of frustration swim in his eyes "Jesus, Dean, please, what do you want from me? I'm sunk as low as I can go right now, love you more than goddamn life and want you so bad, like I _know_ I shouldn't, so much I can't even stand to look at you sometimes and yeah, I'm a sick fuck, I know it but you-you're not, Dean, you're not like me, you're normal, and I _know_ that, know you don't feel the same and it's ok, I understand so I can't let you do this, no, I'm not gonna _let _you do this, not when you don't feel it-"

"Sam, shut up."

"No, Dean, I-" And Sam gasps with pleasure, with shock as Dean's hand slides down fast and cups his dick through his pants, squeezing rough-

And Dean looks down at his hand, hot gaze sliding back up to Sam's and he gives Sam a sexy grin, "I said-" and bends in to trail a soft kiss across Sam's mouth before pulling back and giving another squeeze down below, "to shut the fuck up."

He tries to talk, he really does, can feel his mouth working, sucking in air but his brain has closed down, and the only things awake are his nerves, picking and tingling under his skin.

Oh, yeah, and his dick…that's working just fine, thank you very much, because it's throbbing under Dean's warm palm, pushing up hard and heavy, straining at his jeans, fighting against the weight.

A sound works out of his throat, a whimper of arousal and that's all he can manage because right at that moment, Dean's mouth lands hard on his, pushing him open, tongue plunging in deep, fingers tightening in Sam's hair, gripping hard, ready for a tussle-

And Sam tries to tear his mouth away because _they need to talk about this, goddamn it_, but Dean holds him in place, a hand wrapped around the back of his head, the other palm still rubbing down below, working his cock to a frenzy and that erotic tongue keeps swirling and dancing around his, making his head swoon with desire, the taste of Dean in his mouth a delicious nectar, luscious honey that makes him ravenous for more.

And Dean kisses him breathless, swallowing down his moans of protest until all his fight's gone, no resistance left and he's wide open, exposed and vulnerable, whimpering into Dean's mouth, melting into the warm body of his brother, all Dean's now, letting his brother have him, all of him, take as much as he wants.

Dean makes a soft sound, a satisfied hum rolling out of his chest and he settles in, releasing Sam's mouth for a quick breath in before he's back, taking Sam lips fierce and possessive, rough and showing no mercy as he shoves in with his tongue, taking control, the electricity zinging between them, snapping against their nerves.

Sam's skin is on fire, flushed hot with need and when Dean breaks the kiss abruptly, staring down at him with lust-filled eyes, all he can do is tremble against the hard body on top of him, begging Dean with his eyes, with his mouth to come back, to kiss him some more.

Dean moves deliberately, catching his eyes and holding them, making sure he has Sam's attention before he rocks his hips in, a slow wave, rolling over Sam's cock with his own, and the solid length of him has Sam moaning with heat, with desire, flames flicking low through his belly.

"You feel how hard I'm pretending, Sammy?"

He can barely speak, "C-Christ, Dean-"

And Dean is looming over him, green eyes burning into his soul, growling out the words now, "You're fucking _everything_ to me, Sam. Do you know how long I've waited for this, waited for you? You're not gonna _let _me do this?" And Dean leans forward, bites at his bottom lip, the pain swirling through his head, ripping away all the walls he has left, "Oh, man, you just try and stop me-"

A thrill shoots through his belly at Dean's words and he stares up at his brother, so hungry for this man, he can't stand it and to hell with society, to hell with the world because right now, right here, it's just him and Dean, just like it's always been, just like it should be and it's good and right-

Dean's rucked up tight against him, his hard cock pressing against Sam's and yes, this is everything he's ever wanted in the world-

And something deep wrenches free in his chest, the hurt, the pain from when Dean denied him before, it breaks apart, flies away and there's only clear blue skies, green eyes he can drown in and that sweet fucking mouth smiling down at him.

Can't resist, can't hold back any more, has to take those sweet lips for his own.

With a moan of surrender, he reaches up, hand clamping on the back of Dean's neck and he pulls him down, mouths crashing together hard and he's frantic now, battening in, shoving Dean's lips apart with his tongue, searching wildly, finding Dean's inside and swirling around, tangling in-

And Jesus Christ, Dean's mouth is ambrosia, decadent, pure sugar, the best thing he ever tasted, dizzying his brain and he's clinging to Dean, scared if he lets go, he's gonna fly right off into space because he's out of control, so goddamn hungry and can't wait, can't wait-

The kiss deepens, becomes more and Dean moans in his mouth, like Sam's the best thing he's ever tasted and he remembers the last time Dean sounded like that, the steamy cabin, the hot summer night, sharing the taste of whiskey with their kisses-

"God, I missed you-" He mutters brokenly against Dean's mouth, lost, so in love with his brother he can't deal with it, needs Dean to take over, take control because he's frozen, wants this so much, doesn't want to fuck it up, hurt this in anyway.

Scared Dean's gonna change his mind after again.

There's a lonely wail in the distance, a haunting cry that barely penetrates Sam's brain, a soft rumbling in the ground underneath him that makes the feel of Dean on him more intense, Sam's body feeling every tremor underneath him and something's coming.

What the hell is that?

Dean yanks his mouth away, pulls back and stares down at Sam.

As one they both look to the side-

At the train tracks running along close by, so near they can see the glint of metal in the late afternoon sun-

And Dean's eyes turn back to him, hot fire in their depths, running sensuously over his face, slowly dragging over every inch of his features and Sam can _feel_ it in his skin.

Staring down at Sam's lips, focused on that, watching Sam catch the bottom one in his teeth and the lights in Dean's eyes flare up, dark lust shining back at him-

"God, Sammy-" And Dean's swooping down, taking his mouth rough and hard, like he's desperate for it and he's pushing him open, no measly little chaste kiss this time, nope, he's diving in, going straight for the prize, _claiming_ Sam with an ease and skill that leaves him shivering and weak, losing himself, falling harder than ever before-

The ground trembles gently under Sam, he can feel the vibrations beneath his back and the low hum is starting now, coming closer-

Dean pushes in deeper, _God, he's a good kisser_, and slides his tongue over Sam's, each sensuous lick shooting fire into his brain and he hears himself, panting and moaning into Dean's mouth, feels his hands move of their own accord, one slipping up behind Dean's head, cupping and pulling him closer, and the other is sliding under the cotton t-shirt, needing to feel the naked flesh, needing to touch everywhere.

And there-

Dean's back is hot, damp with sweat, hard and sinew, muscles trembling under Sam's fingers, and he caresses slowly, memorizing every inch, every cut of definition, every twitch of flesh as he dances, feather light, over ribs and bone.

The beat under the ground grows louder, still just barely there but becoming more intense, the humming working it's way through Sam's spine, making him breathless even as the lonely wail of the train sounds again.

Dean's fingers laces through his hair, holding him in place as he kisses the life out of him and Sam's fucking breathless, dizzy because those damn erotic lips working his are taking away his control, his free will and turning him into a helpless lump of desire, quivering under Dean's mouth and just letting Dean have it, have all of him because he can't refuse, can't deny-

Dean's voice, deep and sexy, curling through his stomach like warm brandy, "Fucking wanted this for so long, Sammy, wanted you, couldn't let myself have you, felt so goddamn _dirty_ but now…once I heard you on that tape, that you wanted me, too, couldn't believe that you felt the same as me, just as hungry, just as crazy…That summer with you, that night, best night of my life, kissing you, touching you and all I wanted was more of that, more of you-"

And the humming under the ground grows louder, vibrating under Sam's back-

"Too scared of hurting you, of hurting us, had to stop it right there-" Dean's words are breathed out against his mouth, "Can't-can't stop it now, not strong anymore, can't help it, love you so much, need to have you, all of you, just once, please, Sammy, just once-"

Sam can barely think, the words stuttering out of him in a rush, because he loves his brother so fucking much-

"God, Dean, _yes_, yes, want that, too, want everything-"

And Dean's hands are roaming over his chest, now shoving up his shirt and brushing over the hard nubs of nipples, stiffening them into peaks, making him gasp with pleasure before Dean pulls away, breaks the kiss and bends down, capturing one in his mouth while his talented fingers work the other and damn!

Sam can't sit still, arching his chest up so Dean has full access and God, that tongue, licking and circling until Sam's making hungry grunts of bliss low in his throat.

Making him moan and rock up into his brother's mouth, his whole mind focused on Dean's mouth, Dean's tongue and those sensuous fingers that are working him so _good_-

"God, Dean, God, your mouth, your fucking _mouth!_"

The train whistle sounds again, the ground yawing and pitching under Sam's skin, adding to his pleasure, his memories-

A hand scrambles between them, Dean hurriedly unbuttoning his jeans, pushing them down and reaching in, the warm palm on his dick making Sam swoon-

Dean pulls him out, Sam;s cock standing at attention between them and before he can take a breath, can even swallow, Dean's got his mouth on his cock and he's jerking back, gasping in shock because _Jesus fuck_, feels so good, so wet and warm, covering him, surrounding his dick, sliding down-

He hears himself, soft sighs and guttural moans, can't stop the noises falling out of his throat at the feel of the sweet wet of Dean's mouth on him.

His goddamn lips are kissing along the underside, humming as he goes, the vibrations spinning Sam's nerves into high gear and he can't stay still, can't stop his hips, his thighs from clenching, straining upward to meet Dean's incredible tongue-

That even now is fluttering along the tender head of his cock, slipping into the slit on top and flicking there, and Sam's whimpering, small mewls of pleasure at every swirl, every lick.

God, don't let it ever end because this right here is the best fucking feeling in the world, Dean taking care of him, holding onto his hips tight, holding Sam down on terra firma, while he shoots Sam's brain right to the moon-

Dean's mouth slides down again, takes Sam all in and sucks hard, and he swears he sees stars, freaking fireworks in his head at the heaven going on between his legs, and he's climbing fast, feels the wave start to build-

The ground is shuddering underneath him, the whistle no longer lonely but _right there_, loud and clanging, and Dean sucks harder, works him faster, turning Sam into a quivering puddle of goo underneath his mouth, can't do a fucking thing, can only lay there, panting, groaning at the goodness of it, the pleasure rolling through his blood, his body and all he can do now is _let_ Dean.

God, he's climbing so fast, the heat in his belly, in his balls turning to steaming fire and can't sit still, can't stop his hips from rocking into Dean's mouth, it's too much and he's falling, dizzy and breathless, lost in Dean's tongue and lips and touch.

The ground under them is shimmying, jumping and rocking-

And the sound is loud, deafening, drowning out every other noise; the train's coming fast, shaking the air itself with the din of its arrival-

Sam knows it, in his distant mind but right now he's busy, so goddamn consumed by Dean's wet mouth on him, there's nothing else, just Dean and him, higher and higher, so sweet and he's almost there, almost there-

"Dean-" He manages to croak out, tries feebly to push his brother's head off, to warn him-

But Dean doesn't budge, mouth sucking faster, swallowing Sam down before pulling back, the sweet rhythm shooting Sam right up to the stars-

The roar of the train is right there, screaming along the tracks next to them, the ground shaking hard, sliding and hitching underneath-

And one more stroke of Dean's delicious mouth and Sam hits it, the mountain top, crest of the wave and he shudders hard, shouting out his pleasure, his love for Dean, for life-

He explodes into Dean's mouth, can't stop, keeps going, muscles rigid, every tendon corded hard as he trembles through the biggest orgasm of his life-

Small spurts now, jerking his hips with it and Dean hasn't let go, mouth tight around his length as he sucks down every drop.

And the train is huffing away into the night, the shaking of the ground easing, lessening.

Dean's tongue is licking him clean, searching for more and he can't move, he's boneless, panting, his muscles too weak to even twitch-

And then Dean is moving up his body, hovering above him, hands on either side of his head, knees straddling his crotch.

His voice is broken, almost humbled as he mutters the words, "Love you, Sammy, God, love you so much."

And Sam wraps his arms around his brother tight, still gasping, heart hammering in his chest but he's not letting Dean go, won't ever let go, "Love you, too, Dean, always."


	5. Chapter 5

#

#

God, Sam smells so good.

He nuzzles up under the long dark hair, lips brushing the soft earlobe, inhaling the scent of him, the tang of sweat mixed with fresh soap, the sweet honey of Sammy underneath, the dirt and grass that surrounds them, and he fills his lungs with it, wants to remember this moment in time forever.

Listening to the delicious gasping filling his ears as Sam recovers from orgasm, his chest rising and falling beneath Dean's, trembling finally slowing as his brother stills and rests, their breathing matching now, slow steady pulls between them.

Wants to stay here forever, just like this, breathing in his brother's smell, feeling that wonderful warmth underneath him but his dick, man-

It's not liking the wait, throbbing at him in his pants, almost painful now and Dean moves his hips in, pushing his aching cock against Sam's, hoping Sam'll get the picture, remember that _he_ didn't get off and really needs a little action in the downstairs department.

He pulls the earlobe into his mouth, sucking, nipping, breathing out his brother's name, stirring the hair gently, "Sammy."

"Dean. You said…_just once_." Sam's voice sounds _off_, not loving or happy or sated, but hoarse and raw, the words muttered into the air, dropped like small bombs waiting to explode.

There's tension humming through Sam's body underneath his but Dean's a little slow, still lovingly licking and sucking on Sam's earlobe, "Mmmm?"

He feels the wedge of hands in between them and before he knows it, he's given a fierce shove and he lands hard, a painful jolt screeching up one hip-

Ow, that freaking hurt!

"Sammy, what the-?" Dean's up on his knees, rubbing away the bruise he knows he's gonna have and staring after Sam in confusion because _now what the hell is wrong?_

But Sam is already up, scrambling away, yanking up his pants and tucking his dick back in, his back to Dean, shoulders slumped, dejected-

Shutting Dean out, curling into himself, staring at the ground, clenched fists against his thighs, back rigid, stiff and cold.

"Sam? You-you ok?" He gets to his feet, tentative because hell, no, Sam's not ok, his whole body is screaming with it but Dean can't for the life of him figure out just what the hell went wrong in the space of two minutes.

Sam spins around suddenly, making him jump and shit, his face-

His eyes are glaring wounded, mouth twisted in hurt, the anguish in his expression cutting at Dean's heart and he's reaching out, doesn't know what's wrong but needs to soothe, to stop Sam's pain.

His hand is slapped away and Sam's voice is snarling pissed, shaking with anger "You said-you said you needed to have me just once. _Just once._ What the hell did you mean by that, Dean? "

Dean can feel his frown deepen because he's not getting the problem here, "Sammy, what-?"

Sam cuts him off, tone rising up an octave, cheeks flushed with rage, "I'll tell you what you meant! That you're gonna be fucking _stupid_ again, aren't you? Tomorrow, you're gonna let the goddamn guilt back in, let it eat at you and tell yourself how wrong, how perverted you are and you're gonna deny this again, deny _me_ again, just like _before!_"

He's shaking his head before Sam even finishes talking, cutting him off, because Sam's wrong, he won't be that way this time, "No, Sammy, not this time, _love_ you-"

"Yeah, like you loved me _before_ and you still shut me out, turned your back on me, man and it hurt, Dean, hurt so bad, it ripped me to shreds and tore me up inside because I loved you so much and you didn't care, it didn't matter what I felt, what I needed. You just ignored me, pretended that night never happened between us and you expected me to go along with it!"

Sam's blinking fast, a fist rubbing at one eye and Dean knows he's fighting tears, his shoulders hunched up around his ears, the memories slashing over his face, lining it deep with old hurt that cuts him through even now, "I would have done _anything_ for you, Dean, anything you asked but you just…fucking…left me. Didn't ask me what I wanted, didn't listen to me or care that I was dying inside, nope, all you cared about was doing what was expected, what society said was right and you turned your back on me, on us and sliced me wide open and I-"

He gestures helplessly into the air between them, the tears breaking free, sliding down and he slaps at one with his palm, "I wasn't ever the same, Dean. You took everything from me that day, ripped out my freaking heart and I never even knew why. Well, now, I'm asking! Why, Dean? Why did you do that to me, to us?" And a sob breaks out of his throat, his voice torn raw "I just want to understand _why_-"

#

He closes his eyes against the pain in Sam's voice, the memories so bright and sharp, it rolls through his chest, the pang of it wrenching at him and he's back there, suddenly, in the heat of the cabin, the smell of Sam's come all over his fingers, the taste of his brother in his mouth, staring into the huge soft eyes that are just as freaked out as his own.

And the shoot of absolute terror that filled his heart shook him, right to his core because he could see the future and it scared the crap out of him.

Having Sam, like this, every day-

Falling deeper and deeper in love with his brother, losing himself, settling in, becoming _complacent_-

Useless as a hunter, useless as Sam's protector because fear for Sam's safety would paralyze him, make him unable to do the job at hand and he would make bad choices, jeopardize both of them and he couldn't take that risk, had to take care of Sammy, keep his edge, his skills honed. It was his job.

No, he couldn't let himself have Sam like this.

So he'd turned away.

Hadn't _wanted_ to do it, shit, every single shred of himself had screamed and raged against it, his heart kicking his ass six ways from Sunday but there wasn't any getting around it, it was for the best, at least that's what he told himself, it was the only decision that was right and sound, goddamn it!

Knew it was the right thing to do but it ripped him to pieces, brought him to his knees and broke him, in ways he couldn't even begin to understand.

Seems he broke Sam as well. So much for Dean always knowing best.

He'd screwed them both up, turning Sam into a pissed-off, angry young man who could barely stand to be in his own skin, snarling and growling at everything that got in his way-

As for himself, well, he'd buried it so deep in his gut, it festered, rotted, poisoned him from the inside out, sucking away his hope, his dreams and he'd taken it as his just due, it was what was _supposed_ to be for his world.

Just another slice to his heart, another cut to his soul, this one the deepest yet because this was _Sammy_-

His everything, his world.

Almost got Sam killed because his brother had kept his feelings a secret, _had to_, because Dean wouldn't let him talk about it-

And he'd been callous and cold, ignoring every plea of Sam's eyes, every soft touch, each muttered whisper of _please, Dean, please, can't we t__al__k about this?_

God, he'd been such a bastard, so goddamn sure, so righteous!

And look what he'd done to them-

Both broken, hungry and raw, scared to love, to admit their needs and weak, so freaking weak without each other.

#

He shakes his head wordlessly, staring into Sam's tear filled eyes, "You'd never understand, Sammy-"

And he starts to turn away, only to be jerked around by an iron grip on his arm, eyes flying to Sam's, his brother's angry gaze locked on his, "Oh, no you don't, Dean, you're gonna talk, right now! I've earned the right to know...that psycho almost killing me gave me the right!"

He tries to shake him off but Sam's having none of it, digging in with his fingers and getting right up in his face-

"Tell me, damn you, you owe me that much!"

Grits his teeth together, firms his mouth because he _can't_ tell Sam about how weak, how afraid Sam makes him, he just can't-

How thoughts of them together for good, for life, fill him with stupid hope, ridiculous because he can never have that happiness, he's a freaking hunter, a Winchester and they don't get the happy endings.

And Sam's face crumples at his resolute look.

He releases Dean abruptly and stumbles away with a broken sob, "You-you son of a bitch, I _knew_ it! You never felt the same for me, you were just playing some sick freaking game!"

"Sam, wait!" Dean's lunging for him, trying to stop his brother from bolting but Sam slips through his fingers, twists away-

"Where the hell are you going? Sam, please, just give me a goddamn minute here, would you? I need to think!"

But Sam doesn't turn back and he's moving fast, like he's desperate to get away.

Keeps his head down, shoulders hunched like he's a beaten pup, waiting for the next blow to come, pulling deep inside himself.

Dean hesitates for a single breath, a slice of fear lurching through and then he's dashing after Sam, catching him just as he passes the car, heading for the road-

Hauls him around by the arm and Sam swings wild, landing a solid punch just under the cheekbone, "Lemme go!"

He sees stars for a second, the shooting fire in his jaw has him shaking his head to clear it and the flick of anger shoots through, right down to his toes because his little brother just goddamn pegged him.

And Dean's punched Sam before, hell yeah, to take him down and show him who was in charge-

But Sam doesn't hit him, _ever_-

He grabs Sam by both shoulders and picks him up, lifts him clear off the ground, muscles screaming in protest as he shoves him back and Sam hits the Impala hard, jolting the breath out of him, the pain of impact shooting sharp through his eyes-

"Get your fucking hands offa me!" Sam's already pushing and shoving-

"No! You're not going anywhere, Sam!" And Dean crashes in with his body, hitting hard and jarring bones, muscling Sam back, pinning him in place-

"You had your chance to talk, Dean. Now I know how you really feel, let's just forget the whole thing, huh? This time, I'm denying you so no, Dean, we're not gonna goddamn talk about it anymore, it's over and done with and we'll just pretend the whole freaking thing didn't happen, ok? 'Cause that's what you do, right? You ignore and close your eyes to what's standing right in front of you, making stupid decisions that hurt people! And then you never learn 'cause you're gonna do it again!"

Sam shoving against him, bucking his chest, his hips into Dean's, trying to get him off," I don't want once, Dean, I want it all, want you, all the time and I won't settle! And you have a goddamn nerve, man, thinking that _just once_ was gonna ever be enough for me! Now let me the fuck go!"

And Sam is struggling hard now, Dean wrestling him back as much as he can but the goddamn kid is strong, wiry and he's got four inches on Dean and about twenty pounds, freaking mighty as an ox and it's only gonna be a couple more seconds before he gets free-

"Son of a bitch, Sam, it wasn't. I couldn't." He bites his lip, doesn't want to _say_ it but before he knows it, before he can stop it, he's yelling the words into Sam's face, needs his brother to goddamn understand- "I was freaking _terrified_, ok?"

And it's out now, stark and raw, and it rocks Sam back, stilling him, a twitch of air trembling between them as they both realize what Dean just said.

"You were-" Sam mutters it back in wonder.

"Damn it! This thing, man, this thing between us is so fucking strong, it just took all my strength, my will away and all I wanted was to have you, stay with you, forever, always, knew if I did, I'd become…happy. Knew I could be so happy with you, being with you, like that, all I ever wanted and how could I keep you safe, keep you protected if I was acting like a love-sick fool, following you around like a hungry puppy, begging for every touch, every kiss. You-you're everything, Sam, my whole world, and I love you so much, I could lose myself in you,and then I'd be worthless, no good to you and you'd be vulnerable, wide-open to attack and if anything happened to you, I'd be…God, it would kill me." Dean gestures helplessly into the air between them, all fight gone, wide opened and exposed, "Couldn't do that to you, put you in danger like that, it was my job, Sammy, had to protect you, take care of you, keep you safe! Couldn't let myself have you, it was a…it was a dream, a wish I didn't dare let in."

Dean squares his shoulders and glares at Sam, gritting his teeth on the words, growling them out because his stupid brother made him tell, made him _reve__al_, "So, you can think whatever the hell else you want to but you do _not_ get to think that I was playing a game, or fucking with you. I _love_ you, Sam, and I want you and yeah, if I thought this thing between us endangered you in any way, I'd do it again, deny us both because you matter more than anything!"

He gives Sam a hard shake, "You get me, Sam? You-you matter more than anything and I don't want you to ever forget that."

They blink at each other, the tense air heavy between them, the pulse of frustration shivering through and Sam is searching his face for truth-

He stares back, stripped bare, defenses gone-

"You-you were protecting me?" Sam's voice is a whisper, a breath of wonder, of realization ghosting across the air and Dean's heart beats faster, a thread of hope surging through.

He nods quick, "I was _trying_ to, seems like I didn't do a very good job of it because I hurt you so bad."

And his brother's eyes are locked on his, soft love rising up, replacing the mistrust, the hurt, almost glowing at him, and Dean can't breathe with how Sammy's looking at him right now-

Sam's shaking his head, "We're not gonna do this, not unless you tell me it's for good, for ever, no going back. Can you do that?"

"I can't promise you that. If being with me hurts you in any way, we're stopping it."

And Sam is blowing out a frustrated breath, "Goddamn it, you're making me crazy!"

He starts to speak but Sam's hands are suddenly wrapped around his head, holding him in place with a fierce grip, and the mouth that lands on his is crushing, Sam's teeth smashing into his and he tastes blood just before he's shoved open, the tongue swirling in like hot fire over his, taking his mouth in a brutal kiss, no soft love or tentative touch anymore-

Nope, Sam is taking possession, making him, _owning_ him.

The palms around his face are hot iron, the mouth on his sizzling hot and Sam's not letting him go, not letting him breath, just keeps plundering his mouth, tongue shoving into him, arousing him easily, helplessly-

Dean fights against it, tries to keep control, keep hold of his will but the kiss scorches through him, lighting him up, tearing his walls down one by one, until he's shaking with effort, his resistance ripped away by Sam's delicious tongue-

And it's too much for him, can't fight anymore, the thin fray of his self-control finally snaps-

He gives a whimper of release, letting the guilt, the fear, and the shame be ripped away, cleansed by Sam's mouth, his love and he relaxes, opens up, letting Sam have him all, falling in harder than ever-

And the kiss changes, brute force sliding into passionate hunger, the hands surrounding him loosen, caress instead of grip and _Christ, Sam's a good kisser_, pulling sparks of fire up from his balls and Dean can't get enough of this, enough of that wonderful tongue, that taste.

He's shoved away suddenly, his mouth still chasing after Sam's for a minute, bewitched and fuddled in his brain from his brother's freaking scorching kisses-

Sam's voice is hard as stone, the words absolute, final."You are _not_ leaving me again, Dean, I not gonna let you so you're just gonna have to get used to me kissing you, loving you and…"

He raises an eyebrow, looks up and down Dean's body with lust blown eyes, lip curling suggestively "Touching you everywhere I want, whenever I want. Is that clear?"

And the flush of heat that shoots through his body at Sam's look leaves him trembling, panting with desire, "God, Sammy."

Sam's mouth swoops back in, hovers just over his and the breath on his is hot and sweet, "I said, is that clear?"

He slides his hand up around Sam's head, pulling him down, aching for his kiss, "Fuck, yes."

#

He's gripping the steering wheel so tight, his hands are cramping up, knows if he lets go, they're gonna be shaking and he's sweating, can feel it sliding down his back-

Holy fuck-

Can't get to the motel fast enough-

Glances over at Sam who smiles at him sweetly, all dimples and teeth and his foot slams down on the gas-

Can't wait, can't wait-

After his little declaration, Sam had pulled him in again and covered his mouth in another kiss, but this one was gentle, cream and honey, opening him slow and easy, taking his time, the delicious slide of Sam's tongue fluttering up against his own, flicks of desire zinging up his spine at the taste-

The flavor of his brother rocking through, the twist of tongue in his mouth making his cock achingly hard again and _yeah, ok, he can get used to this, if Sam insists-_

Who the hell is he kidding, he wants this forever, for a life time, not just once, not even twice-

Always.

When Sammy broke the kiss, nuzzled their noses together and whispered to him, he'd turned into a puddle of twitching arousal fast, the seven words rocking his brain, his world-

"Want to feel you inside me, Dean-"

He'd jerked back, sure it was wishful thinking, certain his brother hadn't really said what his hopeful ears had heard-

"Sammy-" He can barely squeak it out-

"Please, Dean, I've waited so long for this, for you. Don't make me wait anymore."

Can't hardly stutter out the words, "Fuck, are you-are you sure, Sam?"

And Sam's hand had swept down, cupped his cock hard through his jeans, "Been sure for goddamn _years_-"

How he'd gotten them into the car, he had no recollection, just a sense of _hurryhurryhurry_ that surged through, and before he knew it, he was squealing away, driving hell bent for their motel and trying not to cream in his jeans at the thought of what waited for him there-

#

He manhandles Sam out of the car, into the room, half-carrying, half-dragging and Sam is laughing that he can walk, goddamn it.

Gets them inside and slams the door shut, muscles his brother back against it and takes that sweet mouth as his own, pushing into Sam's eager mouth with his tongue, twisting and sliding, fighting for top, needing to dominate, to possess-

And Sammy opens up for him, _lets_ him, gives a satisfied hum as Dean dives in deeper, takes control and holy Christ, Sam tastes so damn _sweet._

Breaks the kiss for a second to rip off Sam's shirt, can't wait to goddamn have _him._

And then he's back, can't stop kissing those soft lips, can't get enough of that essence, the delicious, tantalizing, luscious flavor that swirls through him, dizzying his brain and stealing his breath away.

Gasps out the words, "Get these things off-" even as he's plundering Sam's mouth, hands scrambling between them at his brother's jeans and the zipper is stuck, locked in place and not giving, goddamn it, and he rips at it, fingers working it and finally, fucking finally it slides down-

He shoves Sam's jeans down and his shorts, too, and the hard cock is bobbing between them now, standing at attention and raring to go and Dean fists it in his hand, gives a pull up, the gasp of delight that falls out of Sam's throat filling him, making him feel huge, strong-

"God, Sammy, God…" He can't help himself, needs to taste those goddamn nipples.

So delicious, the way they harden in his mouth, become tight buds of pleasure and Sam is arching towards him, wanting everything Dean gives.

"Jesus, Dean, feels so good-"

Sweet words that drive him on, needs to own, possess-

Bites and licks at one pebbled tip while he rolls the other between his fingers, keeps going until Sam is stuttering hard, shivering under his mouth, begging for more-

Can't wait any longer.

Releases the delicious nub and he's pulling Sam forward, urging him down onto the bed and when Sammy looks at him, eyes tear-filled and shining bright, Dean pauses, heart giving an uncomfortable thump because what if Sam changed his mind-

"Sammy, what?" Dean's breathless, scared shitless because he doesn't think he can handle it if Sam refuses him now.

His brother swallows hard, shakes his head, "I just can't believe I finally get to have this, it's like I died in that cavern and went to heaven and this is it, everything I ever wanted."

And Dean can't help himself, has to kiss-

He takes Sam's mouth soft and easy, hands sliding over muscled chest and down, circling over the hard abdomen, sweeping over the satin below-

Breaks the kiss and growls into Sam's mouth, "Fuck, I love you."

And he whispers the rest, lips close to his brother's ear, "I'm gonna make you feel so good, Sammy, want to give it all to you, everything I wouldn't let myself have, want to touch you, taste you everywhere-"

"Want you to come all over my hand when I'm buried in that sweet ass of yours."

And Sam's blinking up at him, mouth hanging open, a wild heat flaring up in his eyes and he's pulling at Dean's hips, begging him to _hurry, please, Dean, hurry._

Dean stands up, yanks off his t-shirt and tosses it over his shoulder, shoves down his pants and underwear, kicking them away, hard cock falling out, thick and dripping between them-

Sees Sam's gaze lock on his dick and stay, a look of fascination, of hunger shining in his soft eyes-

Sam's up and crawling across the bed towards him, focused on his cock, honed in, "Dean, can I-"

And before he finishes the sentence, Sam's mouth is there, _right there_, wrapped around his length and it's hot and wet, sucking on him hard, pulling delicious grunting noises out of his throat-

Dean swears savagely, fighting not to come because it's the most freaking awesome feeling in the entire world, Sammy's tongue sliding and dancing along the bottom of his dick, the nerve endings there shooting flicks of heat with every drag on the skin-

Circling the head of his cock, slurping and sucking, filling the air with obscene noises that add to his pleasure and he's shaking with holding himself back, trying to stop himself from exploding into Sam's hot mouth-

"Jesus, Sammy!" His hands go to the mess of hair automatically, sliding through and gripping tight and he's bucking into Sam's mouth, can't stop himself, feels too good to push Sam away.

All he's ever wanted right here, right now, the sweet lips wrapped around his dick, Sam's ass for the taking, his in a few minutes and Sam's mouth working him so good, swirling and sucking, and _God_, can't take any more, the curl of orgasm deep in his belly, making his toes tingle and he's gonna come right now unless Sammy stops.

With a muttered plea, he manages to push Sam's mouth away, his brother moaning with disappointment-

"Don't-don't want to come in your mouth, Sammy, want to be inside you, filling you up-"

Drops to his knees on the bed and reaches for Sam, covers that delicious mouth with his own, tasting himself on his brother's tongue and he knows he should feel dirty, filthy but he _doesn't,_ doesn't care anymore, wants to be_ immersed_ in it, covered with it-

He tangles his tongue around Sam's, swirling under and dancing over, until they're both moaning with desire, rubbing against each other, cock on throbbing cock and damn, that feels _nice_-

Breaks the kiss and spins Sam around, urging him down onto his hands, wanting that beautiful hard ass splayed out before him.

Spits on his fingers and slides down the crack between Sam's ass cheeks, finding the puckered hole and pressing in, spreading the wet around before slipping in, one finger into Sam's entrance and circling gently-

Sam groans in pleasure, a throaty sigh of satisfaction, and pushes back against him, wanting more.

He slides in a second finger, feeling the heat in Sam's ass wrap around him snug, like a second skin and he can't wait to feel that around his dick-

Tries his best to open Sam up, moving his fingers back and forth, opening and closing the gap between them, stretching out the twitching entrance but he's worried, Sam's still so tight and he'll hurt him, if he tries to take him now.

Pulls out his finger and spits on them again, working in more slick, tries for a third finger but Sam's muscles are clenched, not giving at all-

Does the only thing he can think of to relax him, spreads his fingers wide and bends in, licks around the quivering hole with his tongue, hearing Sam's gasp of pleasure as he lets the taste slide into him and it's dark heat, musky sweat, swirling around in his brain and _Jesus_-

Tastes so _sweet-_

He settles in, hardening his tongue and pressing forward, using his fingers to stretch Sammy wider, while he sucks and licks, taking his time, opening up that delicious entrance with little pushes and pokes-

Gets the third finger in and he's searching, reaching, trying to find that one spot-

Sam jumps, legs thrashing suddenly, "Jesus, Dean! What-what _is_ that?"

Dean smiles, face still buried in Sam's ass, _found it_ and presses again, rolling the bud of nerves between his fingers, hearing Sam's shouts of pleasure as he shoves his tongue inside of the clenching hole-

"God, Dean, _now_, need you now!" Sam's whimpering, ass rolling and tossing, trembling as he begs and Dean is up behind him in an instant, spitting on his cock and nudging forward, getting the head inside and pressing in, past Sam's trembling muscles-

A rush of breath comes out of Sam and he's trembling, holding himself stiff, rigid-

Dean gives a shove and he earns another two inches but damn, Sammy's tight, his ass is clenched hard around him, feels like he's trying to cut off circulation-

And Sam starts babbling, twisting his body to get away "Dean, it's too big, can't take it, please-"

He's rubbing Sam's back, soothing circles over the clenched flesh, "Shhh, Sammy, it'll be ok, breathe, breathe-"

And Sam's trying, huffing out his breath like a steam engine, trembling with reaction and Dean waits, petting his brother the whole time, kneading and rubbing the tense muscles, muttering hushed words into the air over Sam's back, "Love you, Sammy, you feel so good around me, so tight and hot, God, what a gift, man, everything I ever wanted right here with me now."

And he feels Sam's muscles start to loosen and give, and he pulls back slightly, pushes in again, gains a few more inches before the muscles clamp down around him, stopping him cold and he groans at the tightness-

Hopes he gets all the way inside of Sam before he's shooting out his load because right now, it'll only take one more clench of Sam's hot channel to fling him right up to the stars.

"Fuck, Dean-" Sam's panting, squirming, "It burns, man-"

The tight grip loosens and Dean pulls back, thrusts again-

Fighting for every inch, going slow and steady, soothing Sam with words, with his hands and finally,_ fin__al__ly, _hitting bottom, buried deep and Christ, if that isn't Eden, Utopia and Shangri-fucking-La all swirled in together-

The heat wraps him like a second skin and it holds him so _good_, makes his cock freaking twitch and pulse, scared if he moves, it's gonna be all over because he's so close, so fucking close-

He pulls out slightly, reaches between them and squeezes the base of his cock hard, stopping the orgasm because there is no way he's coming now, not when he's got heaven snug around him, hot and trembling, just waiting for more-

"You-you ok, Sammy?"

"God, feel so _full_-" And Sam clenches around him, wiggling his hips and making Dean inhale a sharp breath, "It burns like hell, man, and you're goddamn huge but Jesus, feels so good, so right having you here, inside me, taking me, just perfect…"

"So good, Sammy, love you, love this, everything I ever wanted, right here, right now."

And Sam pushes back against him, "Dean, please,need, God, need you to_-_"

Dean's hands are shaking, holding onto Sam's hips, trying to hold back from thrusting in hard, wants this to last, wants to bring them both there for as long as possible and he's pulling all the way out of Sam's sweet hole, slow and easy before pushing back in, the sharp jab of it making Sam gasp out his name and moan with pleasure.

Does it again, sinking in so deep they're both groaning with the sweetness of it and Dean could just die right here, right now, and never want for anything else again-

He tries changing position on the next thrust, because he wants to find Sam's prostate again, send him to the moon while he's fucking him into the mattress-

"Come on, where are you?" He's muttering to himself, pulling back on Sam's hips with every shove forward-

Sam's head snaps back suddenly, "Jesus Christ!" and he's shoving himself back eagerly, meeting Dean's thrusts right there, wild and out of control, "Holy shit, Dean, harder, need-"

Badda bing.

And Dean reaches under, grabs Sam's shoulders with both hands and hauls him up and back, so he's sitting on Dean's dick, on his lap and it sinks his cock in even deeper if that's possible, Sam squirming with the burn but he's rising up and dropping down, breath hissing out of him as he rides Dean hard.

"Jesus, you just keep hitting that spot, driving me crazy!" Sam's gasping with each hard shove in of Dean's dick, twisting his hips and bucking rough, and he's barely able to hang onto his writhing brother-

Wraps one arm around Sam's waist and grabs hold of his dick with his other hand, starts stroking up and down, loving the sounds being wrenched from Sam's throat, "God, Dean, feels so good, so fucking good, can't, unngghh, that's, ahhhh-"

And he's pounding into Sam's ass, fierce jabs up with his hips, making Sam yelp with pleasure, driving himself into that hot hole as deep as he can, so sweet it's an abyss he's drowning in and his fist never slows, drags up and down the satiny flesh of Sam's dick, jerking hard.

Sam's working his dick so good, slamming down onto him, meeting him there shove for shove, grinding himself down to get Dean in deeper, give him more-

Making him see fireworks behind his eyes, bursts of light that feed the fire in his balls, in his belly and there's a fist there, trembling nerves, steamy heat rolling through, bubbling and rolling, a pressure cooker that's gonna blow any second now-

And he's climbing fast, so goddamn fast, the narrow heat surrounding him turning him to steaming puddle of twitching flesh, all feeling and smell and sound-

The musky scent of Sam and him together, filling his head, the slip-slap of flesh on flesh and Sam's gasps of bliss, his cries of love and his own grunts and groans as the orgasm curls in his gut, the length of his brother's hard cock throbbing in his stroking hand, so hot, so _good_-

"Fuck, Dean, gonna-" And Sam stiffens, pulses in his hand and everything clenches around him as Sam explodes, shoots his load out all over Dean's hand-

And that's it, can't hold back, reaches the mountain top and flies over the edge, his balls drawn up tight, his cock throbbing and he gives one more dizzying shove before he bursts, erupts, filling Sam up with his seed, wave after wave of it rocking through him-

And he's almost sobbing now because he's all Sam's, given him everything and loves him more than life, taking to the edge of the world and beyond-

Sam is his now.

And now he knows how it can be for them, and who the hell was he kidding?

Won't ever be able to do without this now-

Holds on tight and feels the grateful tears slide down his cheeks, because he's been given one more chance at this and this time, he's gonna do it right-

His heart is pounding, pulse racing and he can't slow down his breathing because that was the biggest orgasm he's ever had in his life right there-

"Dean, Dean, you're, God, _love_ you, man, everything to me, just, everything I ever wanted, thank you, thank you-"

And he's whispering back, heart too full to be ashamed of weakness, "Thank _you,_ Sammy, for letting me, so sweet, so perfect."

When he pulls out, Sam gives a wail of emptiness and reaches back, tries to pull him in but Dean rolls him over, takes his mouth to hush him and kisses softly, gently, taking his time-

Sam pulls back, fearful, "You gonna leave me again?"

Makes a promise to his brother then and there, means it with all his heart, "Never, Sammy. Never again. Gonna stay with you for good, for keeps."

#

"So, you think there were passengers on that train?" Sam's voice is low, a soft chuckle buried inside and Dean blinks in surprise because he hadn't thought about it, hadn't even considered-

Was too caught up in his baby brother's sweet cock to care one way or the other but shit, if there were people riding by, they got a eyeful.

A laugh barks out of him, shocking them both because it's loud and joyous, not Dean's laugh at all and damn, he's freer than he's ever been, glad to be alive and here, with his beautiful brother-

And he's winking at Sam, "Must have been at least an engineer there…maybe that's what all the damn whistling was about."

They'd fallen asleep wrapped around each other, showered when they woke and now were devouring a delivered pizza-

Maybe." Sam snorts, grins at him, reaching out to wipe off a smear of tomato sauce from the corner of Dean's mouth, bringing the finger to his own to lick away.

It's such an intimate gesture that it catches Dean's breath in his throat, fills him with wonder and hope and a memory floats through, out of his mouth before he can stop it.

"You know the day you got taken, when I went into Bernard's shop?"

Sam nods, gaze locked onto his, "Yeah."

"You were both laughing at something and…I'd never seen you laugh like that, sure as hell not with me, you were so relaxed, at ease and when you saw me, you stopped instantly, like I wiped the joy right out of you. Fucking hurt like hell, man. I-I want you to laugh like that with me, Sammy."

Sam looks down at his pizza, then back up, the fear in his eyes catching at Dean's heart, "I felt at home with Bernard, maybe because he was out and proud of it, he made me think that anything was possible. You _were_ my joy, Dean, but I couldn't have you, so every time I looked at you, I felt…empty and cold, almost black inside. That's what I lived with, every day, since that night we had together. I wish I could say it didn't matter now, that everything's forgiven and forgotten but I can't. I'm scared that it'll happen again and not sure if I can ever trust this-" He gestures between them, "I'm trying but it's hard."

Dean looks down at the slice of pizza he's eating and tosses it back in the box, appetite gone. He rubs a shaking hand across his face and then he's on his knees in front of Sam, hands cupping his brother's face, "I'm so sorry, Sam."

Sam's lower lip trembles and his eyes fill with tears, he's struggling like hell to hold them in, swallowing hard and he's shrugging, mumbling, "Doesn't matter any more."

He gives a small shake, "It does matter, it matters a lot! Gonna show you, Sam, how much I love you, not going anywhere, ever again, you're stuck with me and I'm gonna be right here for as long as you want me."

He leans in, licks away a tear that's rolling down Sam's face and presses a chaste kiss onto the soft mouth, "Love you, Sammy, won't leave you, I swear it."

Rocks them together, whispering it over and over, his promise, his oath of truth to his brother, "I swear, Sammy, I swear."

Sam gives a half-sob, "When I was woke up down there, in the caves, I knew I was dead, knew it from the look on that guy's face that he was gonna make damn sure I didn't walk out of there and I held off for a while, against the drugs, wouldn't tell him what he wanted to know but then I thought about you and how I'd never see you again and-"

Sam shakes his head, "I just wanted you to know how I felt, so you'd understand just how much I love, have always loved you, like that, like I shouldn't. I wanted you to remember that night with me and to know how much it meant. You, that night, it was magic, the happiest I've ever been."

A hand slides around Dean's neck, pulling him forward and Sam's whisper reaches his ears seconds before his mouth is covered in a deep, scorching kiss, "It's still magic, Dean."

Dean meets him there eagerly, opening up for his brother's tongue and kissing back just as fierce and when he's pushed backward, Sam's hands sudden and frantic, he lets himself be manhandled, leans his head back and gives Sam easy access-

Hot kisses are being pressed all over his face, earlobe nipped with sharp teeth, bruises sucked into his jaw, his throat, and then his nipples, shit-

Sam's attacking them like he's a starving man, sucking first one and then the other, biting and licking in turn, pain first and then sweet pleasure-

Turning Dean rock hard in seconds-

And he's gasping with the pleasure rushing through his chest because Sammy's working him good, flicking his tongue over the tight nub, shooting tingles all the way down to his balls, making him arch up into Sam's mouth, begging for more.

Sam's mouth and tongue work down, leaving hot wet trails crisscrossing his ribs, his belly-

His jeans are ripped off fast, Sam's hands tearing at them, shorts dragged down and tossed aside and Christ!

A hot wet heat is surrounding his balls and he hears the slurping, feels the tongue rolling first around one and then the other, working his sac so good, so fast and Dean hears himself wheezing out nonsense words, just trying to hang on because Sam's moving like there's no time and he's got to get Dean off now, right now-

The mouth is sliding down his cock now and he groans with the goodness of it, Sam's tongue flicking along the underside on the down swing, dancing over the head on the sweep up and damn, can't hold his fucking hips still, they're rocking and bucking in abandon, out of contro.

The climb up is so fast because Sam's mouth is freaking sucking hard, swallowing him deep into his throat and he's twitching with nerves, spasms rocking through with each swirl of Sam's tongue, with each hard pull of his mouth and he's fucking _humming_, the vibrations rolling through his dick, shooting Dean higher still and suddenly his orgasm is _right there, right there_-

"God, Sammy, gonna, gonna come!"

And Sam's mouth is gone, leaving Dean thrusting into space, whimpering with reaction-

Pleading with Sam to come back and finish him, pulling at his brother with grasping fingers, "Come on, come on-"

His voice fucked out and weak, body boneless and when his knees are pushed up to his chest, his heart starts hammering in his ribs because damn, Sammy's gonna-

Feels the hot wet of Sam's tongue licking and dancing beneath his balls now, getting closer and closer to-

With a shout of pleasure, he stiffens as Sam's tongue flick over his puckered hole, fluttering up and down before hardening, working it's way inside with stiff pushes and that's liquid heat, steamy fire that sets his insides shaking and turns his bones to jelly.

And he's shaking, quivering as Sam works his hole, sucking hard over it and then blowing hot air, making the muscles clench and release-

Fingers work their way in, two of them, Dean thinks but his brains not really working too good right now, everything's concentrated down below and damn, that feels so good, Sammy has these long fingers that reach way in, circle around and his tongue is still there, poking in-

A jolt of lightening shoots through his belly, ice cold and shivering hot and he's jumping up, head snapping back because he's never felt anything like that before-

"Jesus Christ, Sam! God, there, right there!" And he's begging for Sam to just keep raking over that spot inside, keep working it-

When Sam's fingers pull out, he cries out in dismay, wants him to keep going, could stay like that for the rest of his life-

He hears Sam fumbling with his pants, the rasp of zipper and Sam spits, spits again and something huge and solid is pushing at his trembling entrance, spreading him open-

Sam keeps his hands on the backs of Dean's thighs, pushing them up towards Dean's chest, and now there's nothing in his way, Dean's spread wide, exposed and his virgin hole is being stretched apart by the biggest goddamn dick in the world-

He tries to hold it back, tries to breathe through it but it hurts like hell, like he's being impaled and hell, Sammy isn't even half way in-

"Jesus, that hurts! Ow, just, shit, Sammy, go slow, man, let me-" And his breath is wheezing out of him, he's almost hyperventilating, willing himself to relax and not clench, to let Sam in-

"Love you, Dean, love you, man…" Sam's hands roll in soothing circles on his skin and he responds, lets himself loosen-

Sam pulls back and gives a mighty shove and he's buried, all the way inside of Dean, the pain so intense that he can't speak, breath whistling out of him and he's hanging onto Sam's shoulders with a death grip, holding so tight he'll probably leave bruises but goddamn, that hurts like a mother-

Sam slides out and hovers for a moment, then thrusts back in hard, making Dean gasp-

Does it again and hits that spot inside and shit, that feels nice-

Makes the burning pain not matter because the pleasure is so much sweeter, so more-

"God, do it again, Sammy!"

And Sam pulls out, shoves in and Dean's bucking up towards him, begging him to go deeper, to give him more-

"Jesus, Dean, you're so goddamn gorgeous like this, opening up for me, wanting me, God, so tight around me, hot and mmmm, feels so good to be inside you, want to watch you touch yourself, man, want to see you come-"

And Dean reaches down, grabs his dick, fists himself, dragging the skin up and down while Sam pummels his ass, pounding in and releasing, zinging over his prostate with every thrust and damn, too much, climbing so fast, the rubbing inside him, deep and burning and hot, so hot-

"That's it, Dean, God, so hot, so- _Jesus_, love to watch you like this, open up your eyes, man, want to _see_ when you come."

And his eyes snap open, cling to Sam's as the wave hits him hard, breaking through and crashing in, "Oh, God, oh, God, gonna come, Sammy!"

And with a choked holler, he's shooting his wad all over his hand and stomach, giant spurts of it landing with each jerk of his hand, keeps going, getting the last dregs and he's falling back, spent, exhausted-

And Sam's eyes are glued to his face, watching Dean get off seems to send him and he starts pounding into Dean harder, faster, filling him up so good, it's decadent, filthy and Christ, Dean just wants him to keep going, never stop-

Sam stiffens and Dean feels the pulse of dick in his ass, a quick jerk and then hot wet fills him, slicks him good and Sammy keeps going, pumping in and out until he's finished, spent and collapsing down on top of Dean-

Kissing Dean everywhere he can reach, breathing out the words into his ear "My Dean, all mine now."

Sam lifts himself up onto his arms and gives two more quick pushes in and out, making Dean cry out with a "Jesus, Sam!" and Sam's smiling down at him, pulling out his softening dick slowly, sliding down on the floor next to him and laying there, resting his head on his hand while the other rubs over Dean's belly with soft caresses.

He lets his legs fall and damn, his ass hurts like hell, reamed through and Sam's watching him like a hawk, eyes never leaving his face, he can feel it-

Glances over at his brother and their eyes meet and lock.

And Sam's eyes are huge, soft, the love for Dean pulsing in their depths, as he repeats the words, "All mine now."

The rush of joy hits him hard, overwhelms him because yes, just yes, that's exactly what he is and he leans over, kisses Sam's sweet mouth and breathes out the promise one last time, "Yours, Sam, always."

#

"Hello?"

"Is the the stunningly handsome Dean Winchester, brother of equally gorgeous Sam Winchester?"

"Yeah, who's thi- Bernard? Is that you?"

"It is, sweetie! I just had to call and check on my boys, see how everyone's doing?"

"We're good, Bernard, Sammy and me are good."

"Hmmm, you don't sound like yourself at all, usually you're all growly and angry but now you sound-hell, you sound happy, Dean and it makes me wonder just what you've been doing to get yourself that way? Makes me think maybe something's happened between you two..."

He blushes, clears his throat and stammers into the phone, hears the other man's delighted laugh, "You did it, didn't you! You and Sam got together? Oh, please tell me everything, darling, all the details!"

"Bernard, stop, man, I'm not gonna let you get your rocks off over me and my brother."

"Meanie! Just tell me you boys worked it out and I'll leave you alone."

Dean's watching Sam balancing the tray of food, carrying it to their table and he feels the stir of love in his heart, rushing through and he's nodding into the phone, staring at his gorgeous brother, the lick of arousal sliding on through at the sight of the hard, muscled arms, strong thighs, sexy mop of hair and big soft eyes he could drown in, "We- it's all good, yeah. It's...Jesus, Bernard, it's been the best two weeks of my life and I think Sammy feels the same."

Can't drag his eyes away from his brother's face and when Sam drops the tray of food on the table, he's smiling, dimples and teeth in full force and he shakes his bangs out of his eyes and sits across from Dean, lifting an eyebrow, mouthing the words, "Who is it?"

Dean mouths back, "Bernard." just as the other man is squeeling with glee on the other end of the phone, "Oh, that's fantastic! I'm so happy for both of you. Now, listen, now that you've both gone gay, so to speak, we really have to do something about your hair, and your wardrobe. Pink leather would be such a sexy look on you!"

"Pink-! Bernard, that's just sacrilege! Hmmm, but Sam does need a hair cut."

"Hey!" His brother's outraged cry has Dean laughing, "Bernard ain't touching this hair, I just got it looking good!"

"Tell him with a little gel, I can get his hair to look like mine." Bernard's laugh is wicked.

"Uh Uh." Dean shakes his head, "He'll punch me. Look, I gotta go, Sam's here with lunch and then we're hitting the road, heading west. We'll be in touch, ok?"

"Ok, give my love to Sam and Dean? I'm really, really proud of you!"

With another blush, Dean hangs up the phone, stares at Sam-

Who smiles back seductively, "See anything you like?"

He gives Sam a fake scowl, "Food looks good."

And Sam catches his lower lip between his teeth and Dean's eyes narrow there, watch as Sam's tongue slides across his lips and damn, Sammy knows what that does to him-

Jerks his eyes back up to Sam's and he's grinning at Dean, nods at him and slouches lower in his seat suddenly, "Mmm, it does. I was thinking more about this-" and Dean feels a warm foot settle over his dick, hidden from view-

And he's jerking back in surprise, swearing softly, making Sam laugh out loud as he curls in with his toes, rubbing and kneading-

Drops his foot and Dean can't help but complain, keeping his tone low so the other diners won't hear, "Fuck, Sam, now I've got a hard-on and we've got a goddamn case. You just gonna leave me here like this?"

Sam takes a bite of salad, chuckling at the look on Dean's face, "We got a couple hours drive ahead, figured I could take care of you on the road." He leans forward and whispers the next words, "See how good your driving skills are with my mouth wrapped around your dick."

Dean's throat is bone-dry at the image that just reared up in his head and he's shoving food in his mouth, eating as fast as he can, barely chewing before he swallows and as soon as he's done, he's up, grabbing Sam under one arm and hauling him up-

When Sam protests in a loud voice, "Hey, I'm not done yet!"

He leans in, growls low in Sam's ear, "Finish it in the car, man, you started this shit and now you can just eat _me_ for lunch!"

And he's dragging his brother to the car, Sam laughing his ass off the whole way.

And Dean can't help but join in.

#

#

-end-


End file.
